Stranded
by tuna-booboo
Summary: Steve was on an airplane that crashed onto the shore of a deserted island. Now he and the other survivors must pull together to stay alive. Chapter 11 is up. Please read and review.
1. Steve Sloan

**A/N: **I had an idea for this story a long time ago, but I was inspired to finish it by a new television show that I shall leave nameless. I am hooked, and I thought I'd blend it with my other favorite show, and I own neither one. Italics flashback. Please read and review. Enjoy!

**Stranded**

**Chapter One:** Steve Sloan

"Steve!" His wife's scream was the last thing that he heard before he blacked out.

When he awoke, Steve's first cognizance was the sharp ache running through his right arm. He had felt the pain before, when Carter Sweeney had shot him with a nail gun, and again when he was trying to stop a knife fight that had broken out at BBQ Bob's. The next of his senses to return was sight, and he was blinded by the glare of the sun.

…..

_Steve had never been so happy in his life. A son! He smiled down at Ellen, her golden curls still damp from labor. But her forehead was creased with worry. A NICU team hovered around the newborn, quickly transferring him to an incubator. He would spend months in that plastic box. Steve could see the anxiety on the doctor's faces, but he put on a brave smile for Ellen._

_This was not how the pregnancy was supposed to end. Not here. Not like this._

…..

Steve sat up. He was in a jungle clearing, surrounded by tall palms. There was a long stick sticking out of his right arm. Instinctively he remembered the first aid class he had attended at the YMCA as a teenager. With a painful yell, he pulled the stick from his flesh. He then tore the sleeve off of his dark blue shirt and wrapped it tightly around the wound to stanch the blood.

Then he heard the screams from behind the trees. He ran towards the sound. What he saw when he reached the beach was terrifying, to say the least.

The airplane they had all been riding in only minutes ago had crashed onto the shore. People were running all over the sand. A gray smoke permeated all of the air. Steve entered sleep mode, and he was not aware of his actions. He saw a blond girl, her hair pulled back in two messy braids. She was sitting on the ground, shaking with her fright. A brunette in a black dress was screaming, and pressing her hand against a cut on her leg.

A distinguished looking woman with shoulder length black hair was the only sense of calm in the chaos. She was running from person to person, giving quick, pointed orders. She looked to be a doctor, moving wounded, helping anyone who needed it. Steve's brain switched off of automatic pilot, and he ran forward with a start.

"My father is a doctor," he said. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Yeah, sit still and let me take a look at your arm," she said. The blood was soaking through the improvised bandage, showing up in a dark crimson splotch.

"It's fine," Steve said, pulling away. The doctor seemed to sense that he was not going to budge. She wanted to insist that he let her help him, but there were people who needed medical assistance much more.

"Just help me get the people away from the wreckage, please," she said, hurrying to a man who was carrying a little girl.

"What's your name?" Steve called, "In case I need you."

"Joyce."

Joyce. It was the first tangible name he had heard. Then he thought of another: Ellen.

He had to find her. Steve hurried towards the hull of the plane and ducked inside. He instantly stumbled back a few feet, unable to breath in the thick black smoke. But after a short second, he went back into the plane. Everyone who was alive had already hurried outside, undoubtedly to fresh air. Everyone but one. Steve could hear the cry of a baby.

…..

_Baby Michael had seemed healthy for the first few days of his life, although he weighed just over three pounds. But soon the doctors discovered a blocked artery in the tiny boy's heart. They decided that the need for surgery was imminent, and Steve and Ellen hadsigned the necessary release forms, resolving to give their baby the best chance at a normal life that they could._

_They sat with Michael as the doctors scrubbed up and prepared for the operation. _

"_I feel like we're cursed," Ellen whispered. "First he's born three months early, out of our home country. And now the surgery."_

"_There's nothing we could have done differently," Steve said quietly._

"_I know!" Ellen snapped. The small room was silent, but for the random beeping of the machines surrounding the incubator. "I'm sorry, Steve. I'm just so frustrated right now."_

"_We're going to get through this together, Ellen. And remember that no matter what happens, it is for the best. "Steve was now quoting his mother, when she had first learned of her cancer. She was so brave, and Steve hoped to pass some of that valor on to Ellen._

"_I love you," she whispered. Steve put an arm around her shoulder and they watched their son as he was wheeled away. But Steve couldn't help but feel that Ellen was right; their son was being wheeled away to his doom._

…..

Steve cradled the tiny girl in his arms as he made his way back to the doctor's makeshift triage. She was in a bassinet on the seat beside her mother, who did not survive. Steve had grabbed the baby and the diaper bag, deciding to leave the basket. He was still searching for his wife, and was somewhat relieved when he did not see her body in the cabin.

Steve left the little girl with a woman who was sitting out of the way. His attention was soon attracted by a scream.

"Help, please, somebody! My brother's dying!" A pregnant woman with long, sandy blond hair was sitting beside a young man who was lying flat on his back. Ellen was performing CPR. Steve dropped to his knees, taking over the breathing for her. The man sputtered, and sat up, choking on the air that was now pumping back into his lungs.

"My name is Doctor Walters. I'm a gynecologist. How far are you?" Joyce said, appearing at their side.

"Thirty-four weeks," the woman replied.

"Okay, take deep breaths, and try to stay calm, so you don't trigger an early labor." Joyce turned her attention to the man. He had caught his breath and was now looking around, dazed.

Seeing that everything was momentarily under control, Steve pulled Ellen aside, and they just stood on the smoky beach. She leaned into his shoulder, too stunned to speak.

…..

_The hospital lobby was cold. Steve and Ellen sat together as the hands on the clock ticked, more slowly, it seemed, then ever before. They thought that waiting for them to begin the surgery was hard, but this. This was a hundred times worst._

_A door opened, and a doctor entered the plain room. _

"_I'm sorry," he said._

_Ellen sunk to the floor, with bone racking sobs. Steve kneeled next to her, trying to comfort her, but too shocked to be of more help. _

"_Is there anyone I can call?" the doctor asked softly._

"_No, thank you. Could we have a minute?" Steve spoke out. The doctor departed, leaving them in their misery._

…..

As night fell, the chaos had died down. Anyone with an injury people had all been settled in a designated area down the beach from the crash site. The others were gathered around a giant campfire, struggling to stay calm. There was almost no dialogue between anyone. All were expecting to see a rescue boat any minute.

Joyce and Steve were grilling Fred Harper, a co-pilot who was among those who had survived, pressing him for answers to all their various questions.

"Look, I don't know what happened. I've never seen anything like it. The radio transmitter klonked out about three hours in. The captain thought it would be best to land, and so we veered off course. Then we hit a storm, and both engines failed. We're just lucky that this island happened to be here, or we'd all be at the bottom of the ocean right now."

"But they have some way of tracking us, right?" Joyce asked. Fred sidestepped the issue to the point where both Steve and Joyce knew that anyone who was looking for them was looking thousands of miles away.

"I don't want to hear any more," Steve said disgustedly. He walked away towards the woman who was keeping an eye on the baby girl he had rescued from the plane. Pretty brown curls framed her face, setting off her blue eyes as she looked up to the cop.

"Hope," she said.

"Hope?" Steve repeated.

"The baby, her name is Hope. Hope Szalinski. It was in her diaper bag."

"And do you have a name?"

"Danietta Coleman," she offered, stretching out her hand.

"I'm Steve Sloan," he returned. Then he turned to the baby. "Hi, Hope, Sweetie. Are you okay?"

"So, you like babies?" she asked.

"Yeah," Steve said thoughtfully. "I guess I do."

…..

_Two days after Michael passed away, Steve headed home. Steve was not looking forward to conveying the happenings of the past few weeks to his father. He would be so devastated. And the last thing he wanted was Amanda and Jesse's pity. _

_These thoughts were running through Steve's head, when, dressed in black, he and Ellen boarded their plane._

_Flight 314, Tokyo to Los Angeles, took off at fifteen after eight. _In just fourteen hours we'll land in California,_ Steve thought as he entered the jet way. _


	2. Ellen SharpSloan

**A/N: **I was told in an e-mail that the first chapter was very sad. The second chapter is to ease some of this angst. I do plan on continuting this, and am in the process of writing chapter three now. Please read and review.

**Stranded**

**Chapter Two:** Ellen Sharp-Sloan

The surf was amazing as it hit the shore, sending sprays yards up onto the beach. It looked so cool and refreshing, and Ellen found it hard to believe that just yesterday they had been flying above the ocean, not sitting on a sunny, sandy, deserted island. The others were starting to get antsy. Why hadn't they been rescued yet? The question buzzed throughout the crowd.

But Ellen was quite comfortable on the beach; after all, she did live on one. She stretched out on the sand, letting the sun's rays hit her body. After all that she'd been through in the past year, Ellen figured that she deserved a break.

Steve smiled at her as he passed. He and three others were headed towards the airplane to try and find some food. But his destination was not what caught her attention. It was the smile. She had seen it before, on other occasions where Steve did not want her to know something.

This enraged Ellen, and she quickly got up to follow. She hated it when Steve got the better of her.

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

"_Guess there's nothing left to say." Ellen turned and walked away from Steve, and towards her new job at _The Chicago Outlook

"_Except I love you," Steve called. "And I was hoping you'd consider marrying me. I wouldn't want to do anything to stand in the way of your career."_

_Ellen turned around slowly._

"_What'd you say?" she asked._

"_I wouldn't want to do anything to, uh, stand in the way of your career."_

"_Before that," Ellen steered._

"_Nothing," Steve said quickly._

"_Yeah, I think there was something," Ellen alleged._

"_I don't think so. I don't remember anything," he teased._

"_You said 'I love you'," Ellen repeated._

"_I don't think so. I think I'd remember if I said that."_

"'_And I was hoping you'd consider marrying me,'" she quoted._

"_You were?" Steve asked._

"_No, you were."_

"_Yes. Yes I was. I love you."_

"_I love you too," Ellen said, putting her arms around Steve's neck as they shared a passionate kiss._

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

"What's going on?" Ellen said, catching up to her husband.

"What are you talking about?" Steve asked.

"Don't look at me like that. I've been seeing through that fake grin for a long time now." He shook his head and continued on past her. "Steve!" Ellen took his arm and stopped him. "Please tell me. There's no newspaper here. I can't tell the Scoop."

Steve waved the others on, and pulled Ellen aside. He told her calmly what they had learned from the co-pilot.

"Now do you see why I didn't want to say anything? If this gets out we're going to have a mass panic," Steve said. "And that is the very last thing we need now." Then he heard words that he had never even hoped his wife would say.

"You're absolutely right. We need to think this through," Ellen said thoughtfully. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Come on," Steve said with a smile. They walked back towards the airplane, hand in hand.

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

"_I do," Steve had said strongly. A few minutes later Ellen's grin had widened as the reverend gave Steve permission to kiss the bride._

_Now, three months after the wedding, Ellen's body was beginning to show signs of the baby growing inside of her. She stood in front of the mirror in the bedroom and pulled her shirt up over her tummy. Ellen knew that there was nothing to see, but she pressed her hand against her skin nonetheless, smiling brightly at her reflection._

"_What are you doing?" a voice called from the doorway. Ellen didn't answer her husband; she only yanked down her shirt and sank onto the edge of the bed. "Ellen?" Steve came and knelt beside her on the floor._

"_Steve," she said, tears of joy stinging the corners of her eyes. "I'm pregnant."_

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

The hot sun finally went down on the horizon. The survivors of the crash had begun to make themselves some vague shelters, but hopes of being rescued soon still soared high. Steve, being the big, strong, protective cop that he was, had already put up a tarp and found a sleeping bag for Ellen. She smiled at him when he brought her a frozen dinner from the plane that had been heated up over flames.

"How are you holding up?" Steve asked, sitting down beside his wife.

"A little better," Ellen said. "I just wish we could get in touch with your dad."

"I'm glad that Amanda and Jesse are there. This might kill him, especially when he finds out the baby wasn't on the plane."

"And you know that he will," Ellen added. "He has so many connections and friends. He must know someone in the airline business."

"Ellen," Steve said quietly. "I love you."

She leaned into his shoulder and let him hold her as she drifted off to sleep.

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

_After Michael had died, Ellen just felt numb. She didn't notice that Steve was leading her away from the hospital, and when he tucked her into bed, like a small child. But then Steve climbed in beside her and they clung to each other as it life now depended on it. _

_The next morning Steve left her alone while he went to the hospital to make a few arrangements. Ellen sat up in the bed, hugging her knees close to her. Anger started to swell inside her. To avoid thinking about it, Ellen decided to pack her bag for their flight that afternoon. She put all of her belongings into her suitcase; clothes, a picture of her with Mark, Steve, Amanda, Jesse, and Alex, and her makeup and other toiletries. She picked up a shoe. It was a black pump. She threw it across the room, and it hit the wall, falling to the ground with a loud CLUNK!_

_Something about the expelled force made Ellen feel slightly better as she picked up the bag's other contents._

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

Hope Szalinski's cries pierced the night. She orphaned baby had been passed from stranger to stranger all that day, and now no one wanted to watch her over night. Ellen stood in the darkness, and watched Hope from the shadows. She slowly crept forward, until she was almost next to the baby's make-shift cradle.

"It's okay," she whispered soothingly. "It's okay Hope." Ellen reached out her hand and touched the baby's creamy white cheek. She seemed somewhat comforted, and fell back into slumber. Ellen stumbled through the darkness next to the place where Steve was laying.

"Where were you?" he asked groggily.

"Little girl's tree," Ellen lied. She dropped slowly back to the ground, snuggling into Steve's shoulder as she had every night since they had lost little Michael. He put an arm around her, and pulled a blanket around them both to protect them from the night chill.

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

_Ellen stood above the empty bag, the contents of which were now strewn across the hotel bedroom floor. She had been so frustrated. Why? Why was this happening to her? To Steve? _

_The door to the room opened, and Steve saw his wife, sitting on the floor, sobbing. Without a word he sank down beside her and pulled her onto his lap. As Ellen fell asleep in his arms, Steve began to feel very drowsy himself. He awoke with a start. His body was sore and stiff, but Ellen slowly smiled up at him, tremblingly, temporarily clamed. _

Well at least she got some rest, _Steve thought. After they shared a kiss, Steve glanced up at the clock on the nightstand. It read 6:45._

"_Our flight leaves at eight," he whispered, stroking Ellen's back. They involuntarily stood and slowly gathered Ellen's things, preparing to leave. _

"_Flight 314, Tokyo to Los Angeles, now boarding all rows," a stewardess called over the loudspeaker. Ellen stood from the uncomfortable plastic chair in the terminal. Her black shirt flowed loosely around her knees as she and Steve went to turn in their tickets. _

_As they entered the jet way, Steve took Ellen's hand in his and squeezed it. This was it. It was time to go home, a place that Ellen dreaded very much. _

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

"I can't do this anymore," Blayr, the young woman who was pregnant, said, resting a hand on her large stomach. "I really don't want to complain, but I'm too tired with my own baby to take good care of her too."

Joyce looked sadly at Steve. Although they had not meant for it to happen, everyone was looking up to the two of them, asking their advice on everything. The situation with Hope was growing worse. No one was both willing and capable of keep the baby safe and fed. Steve shook his head.

"Give her to me," Joyce said. She already had enough on her hands, with the wounded people in the triage, and the people on the beach who were constantly hammering her with questions brought on by their paranoia, but being a gynecologist, she would find caring for the child less difficult that the others would.

"I'll take her." Ellen's voice called from the back of the group. Steve turned to her.

"Are you absolutely sure?" he asked, thinking of all that she had been through. Ellen nodded emphatically.

"Steve I need this," she said. "My maternal instincts are crying out to be fulfilled, and Hope is a baby that needs a mother. There is no better candidate for the job than me."

"I just want you to be happy," Steve said. Ellen smiled vaguely at him and walked up to Joyce. She gently took the baby from her arms. Steve got a couple of men to move Hope's bed to their campsite. Ellen carried Hope to a large, flat rock and sat, rocking her slowly back and forth. As the baby drifted off, Ellen was alone, and she had plenty of time to think.

The pain she had felt when she lost Michael was indescribable, and she was sure that Steve felt the same way. And although Hope would never replace her son, as she cuddled the tiny girl, Ellen felt oddly at peace.


	3. Amanda Bentley

**Stranded**

**Chapter Three:** Amanda Bentley

Dr. Amanda Bentley was completely alone in a corridor of Community General Hospital. The clicking of her heels echoed metallically as she paced slowly to the doctor's lounge. At 2:37 in the afternoon, her shift was long over. But Amanda Bentley, Jesse Travis, and Mark Sloan were workaholics. They spent most of their free time in the hospital, working on some case or another. Now they were trying to solve the murder of a man who had died of arsenic poisoning. At least helping with the case was what Amanda used as an excuse to stick around until her four-o'clock appointment.

She entered the lounge to find Mark sitting alone. He had the stereo turned on, playing Glen Miller on low volume. He was humming to the music, his feet sliding bit by bit across the floor in his roller skates as he paged through the case file. Amanda smiled and took a chair at the table, paging through a newspaper that had been discarded nearby.

"Look at this," she said, pointing at an article in the center of the paper. "The Seven Deadly Sins, famous diamonds of the Romanov family, were stolen from a museum in Tokyo." Mark shook his head.

"Figures," he said, turning back to his file.

A few minutes later, Jesse and Alex Martin came in. As Alex poured them each coffee, Jesse made a face at the CD player, switching it off, and then sat down with the others.

"Did you guys hear about the missing airplane?" he asked.

"What airplane?" asked Amanda, who was about to scold him for playing with the stereo.

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

"_I can't believe that you signed that paper," Amanda said, glaring down at Jesse. _

_Both Mark and Amanda agreed that Ellen was too far in her pregnancy to be flying, but she insisted on it. Ellen's brother, Kevin, had been murdered, and her way of dealing with it was to help Steve catch the man who did it. After three months, they finally figured out whodunit, but he had fled to Tokyo. Steve was going to try and talk to the local police and Ellen was adamant about going along. _

_Steve knew that any efforts to talk his wife out of it would be futile, so instead of arguing with her, he used their combined efforts with his ability to intimidate Jesse to get him to sign a release form for her._

_Now, as Amanda verbally reprimanded Jesse for putting the little Sloan baby in danger, Mark sat, silently, looking out the window. Jesse glanced between him and Alex for help._

"_Chances are that everything will be fine," Alex tried. Amanda started to say something, but Mark interrupted her with a sigh. _

"_No," he said. "It won't."_

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

"A plane went missing in the middle of a flight. They think it crashed, but they can't find the sight," Jesse said.

"The worst part is that our new gynecologist, Joyce Walters, was onboard," Alex continued.

"What was the flight number?" Amanda asked, her heart sinking so that she could feel each beat in the pit of her stomach.

"Three-fourteen," Alex answered. "United Airlines Flight 314."

Amanda gasped, and the others looked at her, confused.

"What is it, Amanda?" Jesse asked quietly.

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

"_No," Mark said with a sigh. "It won't."_

"_What is it, Mark?" Amanda asked quietly._

"_The baby has developed a heart condition," he said in a low tone. "He won't live longer than three days once he's born."_

"_Why didn't you tell them?" Alex queried._

"_I don't know," Mark said slowly. "I guess I thought that if I ignored it, maybe it would go away. Or I just didn't want to be the one to tell my only son that his first child is going to be born so that he can die painfully over a few slow days."_

"_Its okay, Mark," Amanda said, reaching over to give her friend a hug, "I understand."_

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

"Steve and Ellen," she said, her voice breaking, "They were on that flight."

"How?" Mark asked her. Amanda jumped slightly at the sound of his voice, although it had been just seconds since she had spoken herself. She did not answer directly, just looked over at the plain off-white telephone, the one that was just like the one on her desk in the path lab.

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

_Amanda lifted up her head at the loud ringing. She had been sitting at her desk, doing paperwork, and she guessed that she had fallen asleep. The right side of her face felt tingly from resting against the cool metal. As she lifted the phone to her right ear, a paperclip clattered to the desktop, brushed from where it had been stuck to her face. Amanda sighed inwardly, annoyed with herself for falling asleep, as she groggily answered the phone._

"_Hello?" She was jolted to consciousness when she heard Steve's voice. From his tone, she could tell that there was something funny going on._

"_Amanda," he said quietly. "We're heading out tonight. Would you pick us up at LAX around four-thirty this afternoon?"_

"_Sure," Amanda said with a yawn, glancing at her watch. 6:02 a.m.! She had been asleep for almost four hours! But Steve's tone made her worry, and she put aside thoughts of herself. "Hey, is everything alright?"_

"_No, Amanda, nothing is," he said. "I'll tell you everything when I see you."_

"_Wait, what's your flight number?" she asked, increasing her voice volume to catch him as he was hanging up._

"_314."_

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

"How, Amanda?" Mark repeated.

"He called me last night, to ask for a ride," she said, keeping her voice even and low. "I could tell that something was wrong, although he wouldn't say what. And now-"

Amanda closed her eyes and put her head in her hands, letting the tears flow down her cheeks. Mark picked up the telephone, determined to find out what happened to the plane, and Alex and Jesse just sat, keeping eye contact with the floor.

"_We'll find you_," Amanda whispered.

* * *

**A/N: **Well, I hope you liked chapter three. I have chapter four, "Danietta Coleman,"almost done, so that's coming soon. In the meantime, why don't we play I Spy. Me first:

I spy something purple. It's kind of shiny. It says "Submit review." It would be great if you could spy it too.


	4. Danietta Coleman

**Stranded**

**Chapter Four:** Danietta Coleman

Danietta carried her load of luggage to the designated spot in the sand and dumped them onto the growing heap. Cleaning out the plane of anything useful was not a pleasant job, but it had to be done. The survivors had organized themselves into groups, taking turns at the various tasks. Now Danietta was helping to gather all the luggage so that it could be gone through, and organized.

"Would you like a drink?" a voice asked from behind. Danietta turned to see pregnant Blayr offering a bottle of water.

"Thanks," she said as she took the bottle and swallowed a mouthful of the tepid water. Blayr smiled.

"It's the least I could do, since I can't carry anything heavy."

"Do you mind if I ask if Daddy was on the plane?" Danietta asked, nodding towards her hefty tummy.

"No, he wasn't," Blayr said with a vague smile. "We're divorced."

"Oh," Danietta said, unsure of what to say next. Blayr sat down on the edge of a large rock.

"I guess I could start to sort some of the clothes," she said, sliding down so that she was sitting in the sand beside the large pile of luggage. As someone slung a few more bags onto the mound, a small case fell down into Blayr's lap. "What's this?" she said to herself. She picked up the case and unzipped the cover.

"Oh my goodness," Danietta said, looking down to match Blayr's astonished look with a faked one of her own. Seven diamonds glinted in the bright sunlight. Blayr looked up, scanning the shore for Lt. Sloan. He was nearby, helping five other men to carry a large heavy piece of metal that had once been one of the plane's wings. They were attempting to build some kind of shelter for the people in Joyce's triage. Blayr re-fastened the zipper on the case and struggled to her feet.

"Steve?" she called, catching her balance against the big rock, and then picking up her pace to catch up with the cop.

Danietta walked back towards the plane for more luggage, the nauseous feeling in the pit of her stomach growing steadily larger.

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

_Danietta hung just inches above the glass showcase. Inside were the Seven Deadly Sins, famous diamonds of Russia. And soon they would have them. Slowly she sprayed the aerosol can onto the glass, and within seconds, it crumbled like stale bread._

_Danietta carefully avoided the lasers as she put the jewels into a tiny case. _Gluttony, Anger, Pride, Envy, Avarice, Lust, and last, but certainly no least, Sloth_, she thought, slipping each into its own little compartment. She pocketed the case and tugged twice on the rope that had lowered her down. Swiftly, yet carefully, she was lifted up, and out of the skylight she had come in. _

_Danietta had two partners in crime: her husband, JakeColeman, and Frank Kelter. Danietta was the lightest of the three, which was why she was the one to be slowly lowered into the museum in a harness. _

"_Alright, let's see them," Frank demanded._

"_Later," Jake hissed. "We need to get out of here."_

"_I don't think you understand," Frank said, taking a gun out from his waistband. He pointed it at Jake. His pleading eyes told Danietta not to hand over the booty. But she reached out her arm nonetheless._

"_You tra-" Jake began, but he was silenced mid-sentence. Frank turned, grinning._

"_You didn't have to do that," Danietta said, her eyes involuntarily filling with tears._

"_Well, Princess," Frank said sassily, "If it's any consolation, you and Jakey are about to be reunited." She ducked as the gun went off, dodging the bullet. She ran. She didn't know how she did it, but Danietta eventually got down to the street. She could hear Frank's breath and the pounding of his feet as he tried desperately to catch up. Danietta saw her chance. She ducked into an alley, and hid behind a dumpster. _

_She sucked in her breath as she heard Frank's footsteps coming around the large trash bin._

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

Danietta woke from her nightmare with a start. This dream had been reoccurring steadily for the past few days, since the night of the robbery.

Earlier she had decided to follow Blayr and stick close to the diamonds. Steve Sloan had met up with theses jewels before, during a case where a woman was determined to have all seven jewels in her possession at once. She had stolen them from an auction, but then sent them back to the police.

Steve took the diamonds and strapped the small case to his belt loop, so that they would dangle at his side all day.

"Right now, our number one concern is surviving here," he had said. "When we are rescued, I will turn them over to the police, and let someone else deal with it."

But that idea was not alright with Danietta. She had to get them back. If Steve had them, Frank would find him, and then he would make another widow in the world.

She had to get them back.

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

_Danietta realized with horror that she still had the little black case with the Seven Deadly Sins inside. She crouched down farther behind the dumpster. When she sensed Frank's footsteps had passed, she darted out from behind the dumpster, making a break for the street. But her foot caught on a box of tin cans, and they clattered onto the pavement. Frank turned and shot without looking._

_Danietta cried out in pain, but she kept running. Soon she lost the sound of Frank's feet behind her. She wandered around all day on foot, hiding from any man that even vaguely resembled Frank. _

_In the late afternoon, she walked into the airport. She used her credit card to buy a plane ticket, and then she bought a first aid kit, which she took into the bathroom. In one of the stalls, she pulled down the baby-changing table and set down her supplies. As she rolled up her sleeve, she was glad to see that it was only a grazing. Using the bottle of hydrogen peroxide and a warm, damp rag, she carefully cleaned and bandaged her wound, concentrating on the raw flesh, trying in vain to keep her mind off of her husband. _

_But she broke down in tears nonetheless. _

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

Danietta heard Steve stir in his sleep. The case lay just above his head. She maneuvered herself onto a large rock, and hung down over him. She reached down slowly and picked up the case.

Danietta almost made it away, but as she crept out of the small campsite, she knocked into Hope's bed, shaking it slightly. The baby's cries carried loudly into the night, but Danietta continued to make her getaway. She quickly made her way back to the spot where she had been sleeping and crawled back underneath her blanket, pretending not to be awake. After the baby fell back asleep, Danietta rolled over onto her side, back to the other survivors.

Slowly she unzipped the case, revealing the Seven Deadly Sins that were sparkling in the light that the signal fire cast. Suddenly she slammed the cover back down, frustrated with the memories that the jewels brought up. Her body convulsed as a sob escaped her lips. Danietta gasped for breath as she ran out of the reach of the fire's glow and kept on going for yards until she collapsed in the sand.

She didn't stop crying until the dawn's light touched the corners of the eastern sky. Danietta looked up from the ground to the ocean. She could only think of one way to stop the painful memories of her husband's death; she had to be completely rid of the jewels. She carefully stood up and dusted the sand from her clothes, then picked up the little black case. She lifted it above her head, and just as she was about to release it into the ocean, she felt a hand grip her arm solidly.

"You have a lot of explaining to do," Steve said. Danietta hung her head. Joyce and Steve were standing behind her. "What did you do?" Steve's natural cop tone was coming out. The simple conversation was turning into an interrogation.

"I didn't kill anyone. I've never even held a gun."

"No one said anything about a gun." Joyce noted.

"How did you get these jewels?" Steve said, more firmly this time. Tears formed in the woman's eyes as she looked up to the sky and back down at him quickly.

"There was this man," Danietta started. "His name is Frank Kelter. He is a gangster and a professional thief. My brother-in-law got my husband into a-" Danietta paused here, searching for the right words. "A big mess, and he had to work it off, or be killed. Frank took me too, as collateral, I guess. He had a job in Tokyo, so we went there; we took the jewels. But Frank got greedy. He was just using us. He killed Jake. Then he tried to kill me too.

"I got away, but not without this," she said, pulling up her sleeve to reveal a large bandage. "It's only a grazing."

"You should let me look at that," Joyce said softly. "It might get infected."

"If that's what really happened, then why keep it so secret?" Steve demanded.

"I don't know what happened to Frank. But I escaped and I know that he will find me. I'm not going to let him hurt anyone else."

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

"_Flight 314, Tokyo to Los Angeles, now boarding all rows," a stewardess called over the loudspeaker. Danietta wiped the tears from her eyes and looked once more in the bathroom mirror. She had changed into a dress, black with blue flowers, which she had purchased in a gift shop. She quickly pulled her hair out of the braid that had pulled it out of her eyes. It fell in wavy brown curls around her face. Danietta looked very little like the girl who had help Frank Kelter steal the Seven Deadly Sins the night before._

_She put her things into a shoulder bag and went to show her ticket to the boarding stewardess. _

_Soon she was in her seat. Looking around her, she saw a pregnant woman, hand resting on her stomach. She had headphones planted over her ears and as she paged through a magazine, she seemed to be ignoring the young man in the seat beside her. A tall man filed past with his teenage daughter._

"_Are you sure Freddie and the other cats will be alright, Daddy?" she heard the girl ask. But the father's response did not reach her ears. A young woman with two blond braids draping down her back sat three rows in front of Danietta. She looked bored as she chewed gum and stared ahead. _

_Danietta kept looking for Frank. She felt sure that he was there somewhere._

_A man sat down beside her. He was tall, with dark curly hair. _

"_I'm Stuart Thatcher," he said. Danietta stretched out her hand with a half-smile. The man ignored it, and continued to talk although she showed no sign of listening. "I guess we're traveling buddies, eh? Well, you can just let me be, and I won't bug you." _

"_What?" Danietta said, startled from her thoughts. Stuart looked at her, expectantly. "Oh, uh, sure," she said._

"_Good," the man said, satisfied that he would be left to himself. Danietta turned back to surveying the people around her. After take off, she stood from her seat, climbed over Stuart, and walked up to the bathroom, to give her an excuse to look around the rest of the plane. Finally, assured that Frank was not aboard, she returned to her seat, ignored her neighbor's comments about sitting still, reclined a few inches, and, for the first time in days, fell into a deep sleep._

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

Steve took his suitcase and walked into the jungle. He found a secluded spot and buried the case. Inside he had put his gun, badge, and the case with the seven diamonds. He put the key in his wallet, and put that in his pocket.

Danietta smiled at him as he returned to the camp. Dusk was falling as she sat with Joyce and Ellen near a fire. Hope was asleep in a nest of towels beside Ellen, who was writing on a pad of paper.

"What's going on?" Steve asked, sitting down.

"People are settling in for the night," Joyce said with a small smile. Steve sighed heavily, but smiled up at the woman.

"Doctors," he said, as if the one word explained everything.

"We need to find the flight manifest," Ellen said. "Tomorrow we're going to work on figuring out how many people are alive, and exactly how many… didn't make it."

"Once we have that number we can start planning out shelters and figure out exactly how much food we need. The whole thing would be much easier if we had the manifest," Danietta said thoughtfully. Steve looked up at the large shell of the plane.

"The whole front part of the plane is missing," he said simply.

"See, I told you he was a super-sleuth," Ellen smiled.

"We need to figure out how many are dead before we burn the bodies," Joyce said. The other four looked up at her, startled at her train of thought. But when they studied the problem, they knew the doctor was right. Burial was not the answer. Aside from taking too long, it would invite wild animals to come and dig up the bodies. And just leaving them to rot in the plane was too inhumane.

"The others are not going to like this," Danietta said, her voice almost a whisper. "They still don't know that no one is coming."

"We all have to deal with it," Joyce said pointedly. "But it will take at least a few days to figure out who is who. We can't do anything with the bodies until then."

"I think I could speed the process," Danietta said. "What if I went to look for the cockpit?"

"I don't think it's a good idea for any of us to be out wandering alone," Joyce said.

"Well then I'll form a search party," Danietta insisted.

"What will you tell them, you're looking for the manifest so that we can burn the bodies?"

"There was a transceiver or a radio or something, wasn't there?" Ellen asked.

"Yes, but the co-pilot was adamant that it's beyond repair," Steve pointed out.

"But that's not public knowledge," Danietta said. "We'll get it, bring it back, and then say it won't work. And who knows? Maybe there's someone here who _could_ fix it."

"The manifest would make the work of days take a couple hours, tops," Joyce noted.

"I don't like it," Steve said finally, "but I'll go."

"I will too," Ellen offered.

"No," Steve said flatly. "You're still weak. Besides, someone has to watch Hope."

"And watch over the others," Joyce added. "I'm going too."

* * *

**A/N**: That was a quick update for me. I am glad people are liking this. I am working on the next chapter(almost done), titled "Joyce Walters." I had writers block on this for a long time, but then I decided to add the Amanda chapter the other day, and it just started flowing.

After Joyce I think I'll either do Blayr or Jesse. Maybe Mark. I haven't quite decided.

If you like it, please keep on reading, and reviewing.


	5. Joyce Walters

**Stranded**

**Chapter Five: **Joyce Walters

Joyce gathered together a bag of medical supplies to take with her on the hike. The thought that there could be other survivors, possibly severely wounded, made butterflies do loop-de-loops in her stomach. The injured on the beach were all going to make it; they were more scared than anything else, although Joyce had splinted several broken bones, and there was one teenage girl with a mild concussion.

Joyce asked Blayr to take water around to her patients every so often, and then she stood and went around to check them all over once more. No new problems had arisen; everything was starting to be as it should be. Steve and Danietta walked over along with another volunteer, a man named Louis White. His daughter, Katrina, was the girl with the concussion. When she woke up the first day, the only words that she formed were used to ask if her cats had made it.

As they walked into the jungle, Louis told them of his daughter's passion for animals. He was a Staff-Sergeant in the U.S. Marine Corps, and he had orders to Camp Lejeune in North Carolina. With three cats and a dog, the military would not allow that many animals aboard a plane, so Louis had arranged a commercial flight from Tokyo for them. Now all four of his little girl's pets were missing, and he made it clear that the animals were the main reason that he came along on the hike. At the crash site there had been no sign of the pets, cages and all. Katrina was devastated.

"Where are we?" Danietta asked.

"I don't know, but I think we passed this tree an hour ago," Joyce said, resting her arm on the trunk of a large tree.

"We did," Steve said, pointing down at their footprints in the soft dirt.

"Which way is the beach?"

"I don't know," Joyce said, shifting her weight as she maneuvered herself up onto a branch of the tree. "But I'm going to find out."

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

"_It's a good thing he proposed to you, or you and that thing would be living at home for the rest of your life." _

_As her father left the room, Joyce sank down onto the edge of her bed, tears filling her eyes. Her wedding gown hung next to a tall mirror, waiting for her to don it and walk down those stairs to her new life. For as long as Joyce could remember, her father had been blunt with her, but he had never said anything so cruel before. _

_Joyce's mother passed away shortly after she was born, leaving Jaimas Booker to raise his daughter alone. He blamed Joyce for the loss of his wife, and let her know it by verbally abusing her from day one. Over the years she had been dragged down until she believed that all she could do was marry into a well-off family._

_That was until she met ­­­­­Eric Walters. Eric spoke kindly and respectfully to Joyce. He made her believe that she could do anything, even fulfill her dream of becoming a doctor. But as Eric helped Joyce, he began to fall in love with her. On Joyce's eighteenth birthday, nearly a year after they'd met, Eric proposed to the woman of his dreams. They planned the wedding for a month later._

_Now Joyce sat doubting herself again. _

"You and that thing would be living at home for the rest of your life."

_Joyce's father had a way with words. Joyce pushed aside painful memories of the rape that had left her carrying "That Thing," who was actually her three-year-old daughter, Mollie. She stood as the toddler stirred in the large crib beside her bed. As she stroked Mollie's cheek with her fingers, a knock sounded on the door. _

"_Who is it?" Joyce asked, while wiping her eyes with a tissue, and trying to keep her voice steady._

"_It's me," Eric said. Joyce threw on a happy grin and stepped out into the hallway._

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

Joyce reached the top of the tree easily. She carefully found sound footing before looking away from the tree. She could see the smoke from the beach, where their signal fire blazed. She called down to the three on the ground, and pointed that out for them. Then she turned and looked behind her. Smoke rose from a spot in the jungle. She quickly climbed down and led the others in that direction.

It took nearly three hours before they could smell the smoke. Joyce climbed several more trees, to check their direction. Finally they broke through the branches. The nose of the plane had landed in a clearing, and was now a charred blackened hunk of metal. Five people huddled around a small fire: a tall man with dark hair, a woman in a stewardess uniform, a woman with auburn curls, and two three-year-old children.

"Well hi there, traveling buddy," Danietta said to the man. She had apparently found the man who was sitting beside her on the plane. The people looked up and their faces broke out with smiles. Steve, Danietta, Louis, and Joyce handed out the water bottles that they had been carrying. The three adults that were here agreed to come back to the beach camp, and Joyce helped them pack up anything useful. Louis was delighted to find all of his daughter's pets, still in their cages, well fed. The auburn woman had been caring for them.

Meanwhile Steve and Danietta ventured inside the piece of the airplane. There were several bodies, the pilot's among them. Danietta kept her eyes focused ahead of her as she went straight to the cockpit for the flight manifest. Steve followed her, and picked up the transceiver. It was melted in several spots and charred black as the plane shell. If it had been beyond repair before, it was so more than ever now. Steve put it in his bag nonetheless, knowing from experience that crowds liked real evidence, or they became angry mobs.

Outside the others were ready to leave for the beach. Louis put all three of the cats into one carrier, and then strapped it to his back with their leashes, like a backpack. He put the dog, a German-Shepherd puppy called Callie, on a lead, and he led the way. The stewardess, Tess, her nametag read, carried one of the children, while Joyce took the hand of the other, and they followed everyone else into the jungle to begin another four hour hike.

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

"_What is the matter?" Eric asked immediately; he was not fooled by Joyce's fake grin._

"_It's just something _he_ said," Joyce told him, leaving it at that. "I'm okay, really."_

"_That's good, because this came for you in the mail." Eric held out an official looking envelope. Joyce carefully opened it, a feeling of dread making knots in her stomach. What if they rejected her? Joyce's hands shook as she read the letter, telling her that she had been accepted into medical school._

_Joyce threw her arms around her fiancé, crying tears of joy._

"_I can't wait to show thisto myfather," she said. "My success just might give him a heart attack."_

_The rest of the day went smoothly. Joyce was not nervous at the wedding. Her father sat in the audience, and she walked down the aisle alone. Mollie was a flower girl, although she was chaperoned by Eric's niece, Ella, to keep the toddler from eating the rose petals. _

_The next day, at the local courthouse, Eric signed Mollie's adoption papers, making him her legal father. Joyce had never been so happy in her life._

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

They still had nearly half an hour left when dusk began to fall. They lit torches with a lighter that Stuart begrudgingly gave up, and kept on moving.

The two young children had both fallen asleep, and now Steve carried one, and the lady with auburn hair, Terri, carried the other. They looked so alike that Joyce knew that they were twins; brother and sister, named Jamie and Audrey. While awake, they chattered happily, not fully grasping the situation.

"Oh to be three again," Steve had said with a smile, when Audrey had finally drifted off and he took her from the doctor. Soon they walked onto the beach.

Several people looked up at the newcomers to the camp. A woman, whom the people on the beach had come to know as Marilyn, ran forward to the two small children, gathering her babies close to her.

Steve smiled at Ellen, who was cradling Hope. He put an arm around her shoulders as Joyce and Danietta stood nearby.

"Did you get it?" she asked in a whisper.

"Yes," Joyce answered. "We got it."

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

_Joyce chewed over the past years since her wedding. Mollie was doing well in school, and was a brilliant soccer player. Joyce made sure that she was always nearby with a complement and a hug. Every night Joyce climbed the stairs to her daughter's room for their bedtime ritual. They climbed up on Mollie's big bed and drank hot chocolate while reading a book. Eric would even join them every now and then. Mollie loved the series _Protector of the Small_, by Tamora Pierce. They were halfway through the first book when Joyce had left two weeks ago for a medical conference in Tokyo. Joyce's week-old job at Community General Hospital already had her traveling the world._

_Mulling over her memories gave the doctor something to do on the long flight back to L.A. She dug around in her carry-on bag and pulled out the second book in Mollie's series. She had picked it up as a gift for her daughter. As she ran her finger over the cover, Joyce felt the plane hit turbulence. An air mask fell before her, and Joyce put the book away quickly. Her ears popped as the plane plummeted swiftly downward. Just after she secured the mask over her face, Joyce blacked out. _

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

"Vanilla ice cream and bacon," Blayr offered. Joyce set down the water bottles she was carrying and looked at the pregnant woman.

"What was that?"

"That's what I crave: vanilla ice cream and bacon. I've been trying to figure it out for days," she said with a grin. "That sounds disgusting, doesn't it?"

"When I was pregnant, it was strawberries covered with butterscotch. I got those little Hershey chips and melted them down," Joyce said, smiling at the memory.

"I didn't know you have children," Blayr said, shifting in the sand to get in a more comfortable position.

"Just my little girl," Joyce said simply. Joyce went back to her infirmary to check on her patients. She dismissed Katrina White, letting her go to play with her pets. The girl had been overjoyed when her father had walked back into the camp with all four animals the night before.

Katrina picked up a stick and threw it as far as she could. Callie, her dog, went flying down the beach after it. She circled the stick so fast that no one saw the exact moment that she picked it up from the ground, before tearing back to Katrina. She dropped the stick at her feet, and then jumped up, knocking the girl to the ground.

As the dog licked her master's face, Joyce smiled, remembering days spent like this with her own daughter.

Tears filled Joyce's eyes as she turned away, looking out towards sea. Suddenly she felt at peace, knowing that Eric was caring for Mollie.

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

_After the plane took off, Joyce pulled her cell phone out one last time, to check her messages. She had received a text message from Mollie the night before, but she was in a hurry to catch the airplane in time. _

"iHEARTuMama_." She read just before the screen went blank, due tothe dead battery. _

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

"_I love you too, Mollie_," Joyce thought, as she turned back around, to finish her rounds in the makeshift hospital.


	6. Blayr Levine

**Stranded**

**Chapter Six: Blayr Levin**e

_Blayr Levine clutched the doll to her chest. A fresh bruise started to appear on the three year-old's cheek. Her brother, seven-year-old Tony, sunk down beside her, and pulled Blayr onto his lap. He stroked her hair and ignored the blood that trickled down his own forehead._

_Blayr shuddered as the screaming of their father grew louder. Tim Levine had come home drunk again, and had started to beat on the children. When their mother, Gail, arrived at the house, Tony pulled Blayr upstairs to the room they shared and locked the door. _

_Tony had saved up for, purchased, and installed the lock himself, young as he was. _

_Suddenly, a gunshot sounded, and Blayr jumped up, fumbling at the lock. Tony pulled her back, and told her to be quiet. The fighting had stopped, and they heard the sound of a car pulling out of the driveway. Tony stood on his toes to see out the window, and watched his father drive away._

_After Blayr and Tony testified at their father's trial, he was given to a life-sentence in prison. Blayr and Tony were sent to a foster home. _

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

Blayr set down the copy of _Ella Enchanted_, a book that Katrina White had lent her, and stretched out her legs in front of her, trying to remove the pressure from her bladder. It had been just fifteen minutes since she had last asked Danietta to help her to her feet so that she could waddle into the jungle and relieve herself. She hated feeling like she was constantly bothering someone.

Finally Blayr tried to push herself up, but with her ever-growing tummy, she found it impossible.

"Need a hand?" Blayr felt strong hands grip her arms, and she soon found her footing.

"Thank you, Steve," she said over her shoulder as she shuffled towards the trees. The cop was gone when Blayr returned to the beach. She surveyed the land more carefully, and found a better spot to sit in. With a large rock behind her, Blayr could push herself to her feet when needed.

Soon after Blayr returned to her book, Joyce sank down beside her.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, offering a water bottle. "You look dehydrated."

"I'm okay," Blayr said, placing a hand on her stomach. The baby felt the warmth of its mother's hand and kicked palm sharply. Blayr's eyes filled up with tears.

"Are you alright?" Joyce asked, alarmed. Blayr nodded and sniffled. "What is it?"

"I miss Rob."

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

_Robert Balocca leaned towards his wife and whispered something in the ear of the beautiful, slim Blayr. As she laughed quietly, Blayr was unaware that her husband only brought her to these balls and ceremonies because she attracted positive attention to him and his pharmaceutical company: Balocca-Connary. As the founder, CEO, and principle shareholder of the corporation, Robert attended many charity gigs. Having Blayr on his arm made donors want to give more to the cause._

_Even if Blayr had known, she probably would not have minded. Rob's interest was the first positive male attention besides her brother's that she had ever received. Blayr was happy with the man of her dreams. _

_And then things changed: Blayr got pregnant. Rob became very distant, dodging plans and questions about the baby, and he started working long hours at the office. Blayr ignored this, thinking that he was just nervous. _

"_Hi, Sweetie," Blayr said as Robert came in the door. She was just over eight months pregnant now, and growing more anxious for the baby every day. She had turned the spare bedroom into a nursery, and sewed a bunch of cute outfits for the baby. "Did you have a good day?" As Rob grunted an answer, Blayr cut the lace that she was sewing onto a christening gown. She held up the little dress. "What do you think?"_

"_I can't do this Blayr. I can't," Rob said. _

"_What?" the woman asked, looking up from the sewing machine. Rob was standing in the doorway, a large manila envelope under one arm, a bottle of scotch in the other. His tie was undone, as were several buttons on his shirt, and his eyes were red and bloodshot. "You don't drink…" Blayr said, letting the words trail off. She knew what was in the envelope. When she was honest with herself, she had seen this coming._

_Rob placed the divorce papers in front of her and quickly told her that she was getting half of his share of the proceeds of Balocca-Connery, the apartment in Tokyo, and their house in Malibu. Then he held out a pen. At first, Blayr didn't move. Tears were running down her cheeks. But then she glanced up at Rob._

_The look in his eyes scared Blayr. She had seen it before, from her own father, drunken and enraged the night he killed her mother. Blayr took the pen from her husband, and neatly signed her name on the designated lines. _

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

Joyce told Blayr to get some rest.

"And don't worry. I know the baby is due. I will be right here to help you." Blayr smiled at the doctor as she walked away.

"How is my favorite nephew-or-niece today?" Tony asked, sinking down into the sand beside his sister.

"Fine," Blayr mumbled, shifting in the sand. She looked sadly out towards the horizon. Tony seemed to read her thoughts as he placed his arm around her shoulders.

"You're better off without him," he said quietly. Blayr turned at looked into her brother's eyes.

"What did you say?"

"If the man can't respect you, why would you want to be married to him?" Tony jumped up as Blayr pushed on the rock and tried to stand. He moved to help her, but she slapped his hand away. Thirty seconds later, Blayr was standing, straightening out her shirt, and ignoring the chuckles that her brother was trying in vain to hide.

"Go ahead and laugh. Poor pregnant Blayr. I don't care. But I love Rob," she said. "I thought _you_ would respect that."

"Blayr," Tony said, grasping her arm. "He hurt you. He's a jerk."

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

_A week after the divorce, Blayr still felt empty. She had stayed in the apartment. Each morning she woke up, and in her groggy state, thought that it had been a bad dream. But the cold sheets beside her reminded her of the truth._

_In the afternoon, she sat on the couch staring across the room, to a wedding photograph, framed in silver. She remembered all the good times, trying to forget what she had just gone through. Blayr knew that she'd have to face it soon, and was reminded of that fact with the baby's recurrent kicks. She put her hand on the place that had just been kicked, wondering for the thousandth time whether it could be a boy or a girl._

_Blayr was startled from her thoughts by the telephone._

"_Moshi-moshi," she said, using the customary Japanese telephone greeting._

"_Blayr, it's Tony," the voice declared cheerfully._

"_Hi, Tony," Blayr said._

"_How is everything?" Tony called her every week to ask that question and Blayr had always told him that she was just fine. "How's the baby? You're due soon aren't you?"_

"_Yep," Blayr said, "Just two weeks left."_

"_Good, because Uncle Tony bought his little nephew-or-niece a whole lot of presents," he said. Silence overcame the telephone connection, but Tony soon broke it. "Blayr, I know."_

"_Know what?" she asked innocently._

"_I know that Rob left you. Are you sure that you're okay?"_

"_I'm fine. I don't always need someone to look after me. I'm not three anymo-"_

_The doorbell interrupted Blayr before the words could turn into a tirade._

"_Hold on, Tony. I've got to get the door," she said as she set down the phone in its cradle._

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

Blayr glared at her brother. She turned as sharply as she could, and stomped away. She was left to herself after that, to cool off, she assumed. But sitting in one spot didn't feel like an option anymore. She felt restless and couldn't keep her mind off of the divorce. Blayr put the book and a water bottle into a backpack. Then she pushed herself to her feet, and wandered down the beach a way, until the camp was just a speck to her eyes.

She was looking for a place to sit down, when she heard trickling in the jungle. She looked back towards the camp. No one was coming to find her, or even looking her way. Blayr followed the sound behind the trees and saw a small stream. She tasted the water. Salty, though not as strong as the water in the sea.

But the stream was close to the ocean. Maybe further on the water was fresh.

Blayr continued walking along the little stream, crossing over it when she came to a bridge of rock. Blayr walked for a long time, and when she finally checked her watch, she realized that she had been gone for nearly three hours. Blayr turned to go back to camp, when she heard a low rumbling.

She had heard that sound before, when she had climbed a mountain in Japan with Rob. They had cooled their feet at the base of a waterfall. The noise had nearly been deafening.

She broke out of the leaves, and saw it. The water plummeted thirty or forty feet from the top of a cliff down to a lake-sized pool. Blayr sat on the edge of a large rock to untie her tennis shoes. Then she waded into the water up to her knees. It was fresh water, cool and clean. Even in the dusk, Blayr could see to the sandy bottom.

She let her eyes close as the sound of the tumbling water nearly put her to sleep on her feet. The baby kicked, and she looked up, to see a red parrot fly above the trees. Looking up into the leaves, Blayr could see coconuts, guavas, bananas, and papayas. There were also a few other fruits that she did not immediately recognize.

The baby kicked Blayr once again to remind her that it had been very stupid to wander so far away from the camp alone, when she was just a two days away from her due date.

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

_The doorbell interrupted Blayr before the words could turn into a tirade._

"_Hold on, Tony. I've got to get the door," Blayr said as she set down the phone in its cradle. As the door swung inward, Blayr's eyes filled with tears. Her brother stood on her welcome mat, flipping his cell phone closed._

"_Hi, Blayr," he said. "It's time to go home." Blayr moved into his open arms as her sobs overtook her. He held her tightly, stroking her hair and letting her cry as he had done so many times in their childhood. _

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

As Blayr turned to put her shoes back on, she felt something warm dribble down her legs. As a sharp pain ripped through her abdomen, she realized that her water had broken. The contraction left her breathless as she limped back to the shore. As she sank down with her back to the large rock, Blayr did not think of how she would deliver the baby alone, or how scared she was. One thought repeated in her mind, as if her brain had put her on hold and was playing a broken record while she waited.

"_Tony, come rescue me."_

* * *

**A/N**: So there's chapter six. I am sorry that it took so long to update, and I have the next two chapters in the works. And I'm doubly sorry about the cliffhanger. 

But I can't make up my mind on one vital detail: so…

Audience Poll: Should Blayr's baby be a boy or a girl? Vote today!

Honestly I need the help deciding, so if you have an opinion, please share. My heart-felt thanks to all of you who are sticking with me. Thank you for reading.

Also, I purposely put kind of a blooper in this chapter. The book that Blayr was reading, _Ella Enchanted_, was written by a woman named Gail Carson Levine. I named Blayr and Tony's mother Gail.

Now, do you see that shiny little button? Kinda purplish? Says 'Submit Review'? If you click it, a magic box will appear on you screen in approximately five seconds!


	7. Alex Martin

**Stranded**

**Chapter Seven: Alex Martin **

_Alex was hot in the muggy airport terminal. As he shifted his carry-on bag from his right hand to his left, he studied the line of passengers boarding the plane ahead of him. Steve was among them, his arm around his pregnant wife's shoulders. Alex saw Community General's new gynecologist, Joyce, boarding as well._

_Alex glanced down at his ticket to check his seat. It was C-14. As he adjusted the seat and settled his bag underneath, Alex saw his mother, and his sister, strapping their seatbelts. In fact, when he looked around, Alex realized that all his friends and family were on board the plane._

_Just then, the plane's nose dived downward, although Alex didn't remember it even taking off. Time froze as he watched everyone he cared about struggling for the dangling masks._

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

Alex was awakened by his own screams of terror. His face flushed with embarrassment, although his apartment was empty. As his breathing steadied, Alex glanced at the alarm clock. It was three in the morning. He did not have to get up until six.

Alex pulled on his robe and padded barefoot into the kitchen. He brewed some coffee and sat on a stool beside his counter, head in his hands.

The nightmares had started the night after Steve and Ellen disappeared. At first it was only once a night. But now, they were coming steadily every few hours. Alex was running on fumes, but that was better that Mark.

Mark Sloan refused to accept that his son was dead until the airline gave him proof of the crash. He hounded the officials on the phone and at the airport, until finally, he collapsed. Jesse and Amanda realized that he had not been eating, out of worry. Now Mark occupied a room on the third floor of the hospital, an IV giving him sustenance. Amanda sat vigil at his side.

When Alex dragged in to work later, he looked almost as bad as Mark. He walked down the hallway to say good morning, and entered room fifteen.

Amanda was still at Mark's side, asleep in her chair. Alex pulled a blanket out of the closet and covered Amanda with it, then went down to the E.R.

Dr. Jesse Travis was at a counter, two file folders open in front of him. Sitting on top of a patient's chart was a folder containing the waitress' schedule for Barbeque Bob's. Big black bags hung under Jesse's eyes, signs of the past forty-eight hours, during which he had pulled double shifts at both the hospital and the restaurant without sleep. When he saw the young man, Jesse smiled wearily.

"Hi," he said, almost mischievously. Alex greeted him placidly. "So, are you doing anything this weekend?" Jesse asked, looking back down at his schedule.

"What do you need?" Alex said.

"I'm having a tough time at Barbeque Bob's without Steve," Jesse said. "I would really appreciate it if you could help me out for awhile. I know that it's not your responsibility, but honestly, you're the only other person I could trust to manage the place."

"Jesse," Alex interrupted. "I've still got Steve's keys. I'll do it. Under one condition: you go home. Take a nap."

"My shift is over, but I've got to be at Bob's in half-an-hour."

"When will you sleep?"

"On the way, in the car. There's bound to be a couple red lights," Jesse said wearily.

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

"_Alex, I need you to cover for me for a couple days," Steve said, handing the intern his copy of the key to Barbeque Bobs. Alex took the keys, protesting that he didn't think that he should be left in charge of anything. But Steve was gone as soon as the metal ring was out of his grip._

_It was hard to lose someone you loved, especially when you weren't there. Alex knew this. And he couldn't imagine being in Ellen's position. But Alex still couldn't picture himself getting in an airplane and going to Tokyo at the drop of a pin._

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

There was a bell on the door at Barbeque bob's. So many times in the past, Alex had been standing behind the counter, and looked up at the bell's toll to see Steve walk through the door. But not, it was not the familiar form of the cop, but that of Tanis Archer. Alex didn't know her very well, but he had seen enough of her to know her face.

The Sergeant had a young girl by the hand. She sat her down in a chair near the door, warning her not to run. Then she walked over to the corner.

"Hi, Alex," she said. "This is Mollie Walters. I found her out wandering the streets alone, and I thought that maybe you could talk to her." Tanis did not explain the girl's connection to Alex, but he immediately knew it. Mollie's mother was on Flight 314.

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

"_I need suction!" _

_The O.R. was bustling with activity. Dr. Joyce Walters was performing a difficult Caesarian section on a young woman. Alex Martin was on his Maternity Ward rotation in his internship. He and two other interns were in the room, hoping for a chance to help._

"_Martin, I need your hand," Dr. Walters ordered. "Hold this clamp steady." The procedure went on without difficulty, and Alex could not help but feel a little pride. _

_Three hours later, scrubbed out and ready to go home, Alex stood, watching the newborns through the glass. He saw the little girl that he had helped deliver. She opened her mouth to give a big, sleepy yawn. _

"_That's what it's all about," a voice said, startling Alex from behind. He turned to see Dr. Walters. "The little things: yawns, smiles, fingers and toes." Alex smiled at the woman. _

"_I think you're right."_

"_Well, that's why I'm the doctor and you're the intern," Dr. Walters said with a chuckle. "You show so much potential. Keep up the good work. Now go home and get some sleep, Martin. You're gonna need it."_

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

Alex slid into the seat opposite from Mollie. He smiled at her.

"Hi."

"Hi," she mumbled. Obviously this girl was smart. Alex decided that tact wasn't going to get him anywhere.

"My name is Alex. I know your mom," he said, sliding a glass of coke across the table.

"You do?" Mollie asked. She turned her head to look up at the doctor's eyes, and as she did, wisps of her dark hair fell, framing her face.

"I'm an intern at Community General Hospital. I worked really close with your mother a couple of times." Mollie eyed him up.

"What's an intern doing working at a barbeque restaurant?" she asked suspiciously.

"I'm covering for a friend of mine: Steve Sloan. Steve was on Flight 314."

"So was my mom," Mollie said. "I miss her." The girl's eyes filled up with tears. "I know that my mom isn't dead, but my dad said that they'll probably call the search off soon."

"They might do that, but it's only been one week. They usually give it a few more-"

"Usually?" Mollie asked, her voice rising with anger. "There's nothing usual about this at all. How does an airplane just disappear?" Alex had seen Joyce get upset when a gurney had mouthed off to her in the O.R. Mollie was the spitting image of her mother.

"Mollie, my friend, Steve, well his father works at Community General too. And I know that no matter what, Dr. Sloan is not going to give up until we find them."

"Promise?" Mollie asked.

"Promise," Alex said, crossing over his heart with his finger.

"Thank you, Alex," Mollie said, coming around the table to give the doctor a hug.

"Now, why don't I get you a nice hot dinner, and then I'll take you home," Alex said, shuffling towards the kitchen. Tanis left, knowing that Mollie was in good hands. She said something about visiting Dr. Sloan. As Alex and Mollie shared a platter of ribs, he found that he liked this little girl. He liked her very much. And what was better, her hope spread to him, and that night he got a good night's sleep.

* * *

**A/N:** Just a short chapter to add suspense before I solve poor Blayr's dilemma... 

Speaking of which, I still don't know if the baby is going to be a boy or a girl, and I would take any suggestions into consideration. Look for the next chapter soon. I'd tell you who it's about, but then you'd all know who (if anyone) comes to Blayr's rescue.

Well then, I guess that's all. Please review!


	8. Stuart Thatcher

**Stranded**

**Chapter Eight:** Stuart Thatcher

Stuart ran out from behind the tree that had hidden him from the pregnant girl's view. Blayr had just grasped her stomach and slowly dropped down, her back to a large rock.

"Help!" she shouted, hoping to make her voice carry far enough to reach someone.

"I'm Stuart Thatcher," the man said, falling down to his knees beside Blayr.

"Stuart. I need help. Please. Go back to the camp and get the doctor. Get Joyce."

"We're pretty far from camp, Blayr. If I went, it would take almost two hours to get there, and then two hours back. I can't leave you for that long."

"But I need a doctor. I'm having a baby!" Blayr cried frantically.

"It will be alright, Blayr," Stuart said, picking up her hand. "I'm going to help you."

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

_Stuart Thatcher had known Helen Vascan since they had been in grade school. He had pulled her braids, teasingly, and Helen was the first girl who teased back. After months of practical jokes and harmless pranks, the two finally decided on a draw, and became fast friends. _

_But in all the years that he had known her, Stuart had never seen Helen as worried as she was now._

_Helen's six year old daughter, Emily, had been kidnapped. The captors had called Helen's cell phone and demanded 3 million dollars in exchange for the girl. _

_Helen was worth far more than this amount, which was now gathered into a duffel bag in front of Stuart. She was he designer of wedding gowns and dresses for other occasions. Her creations had been worn at many different events from Oscar-night parties to high-school proms. The company was a multi-million dollar, world-wide sensation._

_When Helen received the call from the kidnappers, she had collected the ransom money and brought it to Stuart. He was the head of a private investigation firm. His style was occasionally unorthodox, but he got things done._

_Now, as Helen paced the length of his office for the six-hundredth time, her cell phone rang._

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

"Breathe, Blayr. Just breathe," Stuart said as she struggled through another contraction. When the pain passed, Blayr turned to the man sitting near her.

"Why do you want to help me?"

"What kind of a question is that?" Stuart teased, stoking the fire he had built.

"Well, it's just that most of the others have been saying that you're kind of-"

"A jerk?" he finished. Blayr nodded. "I have my reasons."

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

Tony walked down the beach. After their fight, Blayr had not returned to the place where they slept. Now Tony was going from campsite to campsite, asking if anyone knew his sister's whereabouts. Joyce, Steve, Ellen, and Danietta were sitting around their campfire.

"She didn't come back?" Ellen asked in response to Tony's query.

"I haven't seen her since this afternoon." Joyce frowned, and it was noticed by the people around her.

"What is it?" Steve asked.

"I'm just a little worried about her. The baby will come in a day or two," Joyce said.

"She's not anywhere in camp?" Steve asked Tony. He shook his head adamantly.

"We have to find her," Danietta said, lighting a branch in the fire. She carried her torch away as she went to gather some help. Two search parties were formed, one heading down the east beach, one down the west. Tony followed Steve's faction, but stopped suddenly. He had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach, like his sister was in trouble.

"_I'm coming, Blayr_," he whispered. Then he ran to catch up with the rest of his group.

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

Stuart bit into a mango. He felt bad eating in front of Blayr, but he was starting to feel lightheaded, and he knew that if he was going to deliver the baby, he needed to be as calm as possible.

It had been a long night. Blayr had tried to get some sleep, but had woken up every few minutes in pain. Now she was exhausted, and the birth of the baby was still awhile off. Stuart brought her some water and she gulped it down between contractions.

"Thank you, Stuart," she said. "I'm sorry you're stuck out here with me."

"It's not your fault. It seems that babies live to come into the world at the most inconvenient times." Blayr smiled lightly.

"Why were you following me?" she asked.

"No one else was," Stuart answered with a smile.

"I'm so tired," Blayr said. "And my back is killing me." Stuart sat down beside her, and gently slipped his arm behind her, rubbing her lower back in a circular motion. Blayr turned her head, looking directly into his eyes. "Thank you," she whispered, settling her head on his shoulder.

To pass the time, Stuart started to tell Blayr of his life in the real-world.

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

_Stuart nodded to Helen, and she answered the phone. It was hooked up to an extension, and Stuart could hear every word._

"_Alright, Helen," the kidnapper said in an obviously distorted voice. "Have you got the money?"_

"_It's all here in an unmarked black bag. Everything is just how you wanted it."_

"_Bring the money and drive to the Santa Monica Pier. You'll get more instructions when you arrive."_

"_Before we do this," Stuart interjected, "I want to speak to Emily."_

"_Helen, Helen, Helen," the voice chided. "You've been bad. I said no police."_

"_My name is Stuart Thatcher. I'm a private investigator, and an old friend. I am not a police officer. I am not affiliated with _any_ law enforcement agency, whatsoever. Let me talk to Emily. There's no point in giving you 3million dollars if she's dead."_

_There was a shifting sound in the background, and then Emily's voice transmitted over the telephone. It was full of terror and tears._

"_Mommy?"_

"_I'm here, Emmy. We're coming to get you." _

"_That's enough for now," the kidnapper snapped as he snatched the phone back. "You have one hour."_

_Stuart accompanied Helen, and they were instructed to leave the money at the Santa Monica Pier, in a semi-secluded dumpster. They were then told to drive back into the city. About ten minutes later, the phone rang once more. The address they were given was of a long ago abandoned warehouse._

_Stuart was now driving, and he floored the pedal, speeding towards the location given. He and Helen ran into the building. A few minutes later they came back out. Helen was holding Emily tightly in her arms._

_A loud popping sound rang out and Helen fell to the ground._

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

"What happened?" Blayr asked, her voice labored and her face red with heat. Stuart was quiet for a moment. Then he whispered an answer.

"My wife and daughter died."

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

_Stuart ran back to Helen. Blood pooled on her blouse, and on the pavement beneath her. But it was not hers alone. The gunshots hit Emilyas well as her mother. Stuart touched each of their necks with two fingers. No pulse in either one's veins._

_With despair, Stuart called the police, and he was questioned for three hours before he was released. The funeral service was beautiful, but Stuart was the lone mourner standing beside the two graves as the coffins were lowered into them._

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

"I'm sorry-" Blayr began, but her breath caught in her throat. Stuart moved away from her side and checked on the baby once more. It was crowning.

"This is it, Blayr," he said. "With the next contraction, push."

"I'm scared," she said, breathing heavily.

"I am too, Blayr. But it's okay. I'm right here."

"Promise?"

"Cross my heart."

The rest of the birth was noisy, with Blayr screaming in pain, and Stuart shouting joyfully as a tiny body slid into his hands. Finally a third voice joined the first two, crying as tiny lungs filled with air.

"It's a boy, Blayr, a beautiful, big, noisy boy!" Stuart said, putting the slippery body in Blayr's arms.

"I did it," she said with an exhausted grin.

"You were amazing," Stuart said.

"Actually, you were the amazing one. Thank you," Blayr said.

"You're welcome."

* * *

**A/N:** So there's chapter eight, and the baby! Yeah!

Chapternine is almost done. Look for it soon.

Please let me know what you thought of this.


	9. Tony Levine

**Stranded**

**Chapter Nine:** Tony Levine

_As seven-year-old Tony took the witness stand, he watched his little sister. She was sitting behind the prosecutor with a social worker, named Edna Blake. Tony disliked the woman. She was an older lady, with false teeth, and she smelled like mothballs. _

_The prosecutor, Beverly Reynolds, stood in front of him. He liked this woman, who had promised him that his mother's murderer would go to jail. _

"_Tony, would you please tell us what happened on Friday, May sixth?" she asked. Her eyes were kind and her voice was soft as she questioned the boy._

"_My daddy came home from work early. He was drunk."_

"_Did he come home drunk often?" Tony nodded his head._

"_Yes. Then he would beat up me and Blayr."_

"_Could you tell the court who Blayr is?"_

"_Blayr is my sister."_

"_How old is Blayr?"_

"_Three."_

"_What happened after your father came home?" Ms. Reynolds continued._

"_He started hitting us, but then Mommy came home and they started yelling at each other."_

"_What did you do?" _

"_I took Blayr upstairs to our room and locked the door. I bought the lock with money I saved from the couch cushions. I put it up so that Blayr would be safe."_

"_Then what happened?"_

"_I heard them screaming, but then there was gunshot. I know it was, because Daddy used to watch John Wayne movies, and I heard lots of guns on the TV."_

"_What next?'_

"_I saw Daddy drive away through the window, so I told Blayr to stay upstairs, and I went downstairs to find Mommy."_

"_Where was she, Tony?" The boy looked down at the defense's table. The lawyer did not look pleased, but Tim Levine was furious. He glared at his son. "Tony?" Ms. Reynolds asked louder. The boy looked up at her. "It's okay, you're safe in here. Where was your mother?"_

"_She was lying on the living room floor. There was a lot of blood. I called 911, and when they got to our house, they said Mommy was dead." The boy was crying silently._

"_That will be all. Thank you, Tony," Beverly said, giving his hand a comforting squeeze._

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

Tony doused his torch. He was with Steve's search party. They had been searching for Blayr all night, but there was no sign of her. Now the group was headed back to the camp to reorganize and rendezvous with the others. Tony lagged behind, still hunting for his sister.

Then he saw it, or rather them. Two sets of footprints headed off the beach into the jungle.

"We must have missed them in the dark, Steve said when Tony showed him. He studied the marks in the sand, not liking what he read. "She was followed."

"I'm going after her," Tony said. Steve sighed, hesitating only long enough to wish that he had his gun on him. He turned and sent the rest of the group back to camp, and then followed after the very determined Tony.

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

_Tony stepped into the familiar hallways of Caymont Academy. It was the boarding school that he and Blayr had attended for six years. Blayr was a senior, and Tony was in town for her graduation ceremony. _

_Tony watched from the audience as his baby sister walked across the stage to accept her diploma. After the ceremony, he went to find her in the cafeteria, a large room that had been redecorated for the reception. Tony paused once or twice to talk with old buddies or former teachers, but finally, he found his sister._

"_Tony!" she said, hugging him from behind. "I'm so glad that you could make it!" Now Tony felt guilty. To stay close to Blayr, he had attended a community college for two years after he graduated, but there was not anything local at which he could take his architectural design classes. So for his third year, Tony traveled almost three hundred miles away to a place where he could get his degree._

_Blayr had a hard time adjusting to her brothers' absence. Tony could tell when he talked to her, and when he got a call from the headmistress, who was concerned about Blayr. But then, halfway through the year, something changed in eighteen-year-old Blayr's life, and after that point, she was fine. Tony didn't know what that was, and that thought made him nervous._

_:I want you to meet someone," Blayr said, stirring her brother from his thoughts. "..he's kind, and well- wonderful. We've been dating for almost five months." Blayr turned back towards the man she had been talking with. He was a tall gentleman, with brown hair and blue eyes. His smile portrayed a man that was thoughtful and kind. This was all fine and dandy with Tony, except for the fact that this man was at least several years older than his sister. "This is Robert Balocca. Rob, this is my brother, Tony." Tony feebly shook the man's hand, a fake smile plastered to his face. He couldn't bring himself to say anything to Blayr now. As Tony muddled through the afternoon, he felt a rock in the pit of his stomach that was growing steadily larger. _

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

"How are we going to get back to camp?" Blayr asked. Stuart sighed. He had been thinking of nothing but their options, but he still had not decided which the best was. He knew for sure that he would not leave Blayr and the baby alone.

"I'm not sure yet. But don't worry. I'm taking care of you and the baby. Now, I need you to get some sleep. The baby was only born a few hours ago." Stuart brushed Blayr's hair out of her face as she leaned back down into the sand. She nodded off almost immediately.

When Tony broke through the trees, Stuart was leaning over the baby.

"Blayr!" Tony shouted, dropping down at her side. She looked up at him through drowsy eyes.

"Hi, Tony," she said. "I had the baby. Stuart helped."

"She did an amazing job," Stuart said, looking down. Tony put a hand on Blayr's cheek, and she pushed herself up so that she was sitting beside her brother.

"I'm sorry I wasn't with you," Tony said. Stuart looked around uncomfortably.

"Maybe we should go take a look at that cave," he said to Steve, pointing toward the waterfall. The cop nodded and they walked away to explore, and leave the two alone to talk.

"Tony, it's alright. I don't blame you. It was my fault."

"I said some horrible things to you, Blayr," Tony said.

"I was two days away from my due date, and I walked three hours away from the camp."

"I guess that was pretty stupid," Tony said with a grin. Blayr smiled and punched him lightly on the arm. She glanced back at her baby, who was sleeping wrapped in a sweatshirt she had had in her pack.

"What do you think?"

"He's amazing," Tony said. "Just like his mother." Blayr smiled again, and let her head drop onto her brother's shoulder.

"I'm glad you're here now."

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

_Tony and Blayr had been through so much together, but they still had their share of fights. They were usually small, lasting only a few minutes. But then Blayr decided to get married. Tony really wasn't bothered by the engagement. What upset him was that Blayr didn't stay engaged. She flew to Las Vegas with Robert Balocca and they were married. _

_Tony caught up with her three weeks later, at her new home in Malibu. Blayr was home alone, as her husband was away on a business trip. Tony told Blayr exactly what he thought, that Robert was too old for her and that he wished that she had talked with him before marrying a man that he didn't trust. This infuriated the young woman._

"_You're always mothering and, smothering me," Blayr accused. "I'm not a little girl anymore. I'm an adult!"_

"_And to prove this you go out and get married to a man you barely know?" Tony countered._

"_Rob loves me. I thought _you'd_ understand."_

"_I understand that Mom thought she was in love, but look where that got her!" Blayr turned to leave the room, but Tony grabbed her wrist._

"_Blayr-" He was cut off mid-sentence by his sister's hand slapping his face._

"_Leave me alone," she said as she left the room. Tony sunk down onto the edge of the bed. He put his hand to the place where Blayr had slapped him. His fingers felt cool on the mark that was slowly turning red. A minute or two later, he heard footsteps on the carpet. _

"_I'm sorry, Tony," Blayr whispered. "I don't know why I did that. You are my best friend. I love you." Tony stood and pulled his little sister into a hug._

"_It's okay Blayr," he said. "I love you too."_

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

When Blayr lifted her head from Tony's shoulder, he felt a wet patch where it had lay. The sleeve of his t-shirt was soaked with her sweat. Tony moved around behind her and pulled her long golden hair away from her neck. Slowly he started to braid the blond strands into a long rope that would hang down his sister's back.

"Where did you learn that?" Blayr asked.

"It's easy," Tony said. "You just take the piece from the back and bring it around to the front." Blayr smiled over her shoulder, but Tony turned her head back towards the front. Blayr traced her baby's nose with her finger.

"He is a gift," she whispered. "I don't think I could survive here without him. Or you, Tony."

"I'm glad we're together too." They sat in silence as Tony finished his work. "Well, I guess I'll get out of your hair now," he said, tying the end of the braid with a rubber band from Blayr's bag. He stood up and dusted the sand from his pants.

"Tony-" Blayr said. The young man turned and waited for his sister to continue. "I love you," she said at last. Tony leaned back down and kissed the top of Blayr's head.

"I love you too."

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

_Tony had known from the beginning that his sister's marriage would not last forever. He was surprised that they were still married after five years. Now, though, he got an email from a friend, who told him of Blayr's divorce. Tony dropped his work on the design for a new fast-food chain in Los Angeles, and climbed on an airplane to go get Blayr and bring her home. When he was in the elevator of Blayr's Tokyo apartment, he pulled out his cell phone and called his sister. They talked randomly for a few minutes. Silence overcame the telephone connection, but Tony soon broke it. _

"_Blayr, I know."_

"_Know what?" she asked innocently._

"_I know that Rob left you. Are you sure that you're okay?"_

"_I'm fine. I don't always need someone to look after me. I'm not three anymo-"_

_As Blayr started to go off, Tony pressed the button next to the door. The doorbell interrupted Blayr before the words could turn into a tirade._

"_Hold on, Tony. I've got to get the door," she said. He heard her set down the phone, then he heard shuffling footsteps as she came towards the door. As the door swung inward, Tony flipped his cell phone closed. _

"_Hi, Blayr," he said. "It's time to go home." Blayr moved into his open arms as her sobs overtook her. He held her tightly, stroking her hair and letting her cry as he had done so many times in their childhood. A few minutes later, Tony led her into the apartment. When she stopped crying, he helped her pack a few things, and then they hailed a taxi. Tony was impressed when Blayr gave the driver quick instructions in Japanese._

_They arrived at the airport quickly, and had extra time in the terminal. Finally their flight was announced over the loudspeaker. _

"_Flight 314, Tokyo to Los Angeles, now boarding all rows." Tony and Blayr stood up. As they entered the jet-way, Blayr felt her brother's eyes on her. _

"_What, are you waiting to say 'I told you so,'" she asked, shifting the strap of her carry-on from her left shoulder to the right. _

"_Blayr, let's not argue. I don't want anything bad between us when your baby comes," Tony said, helping her into her seat. Blayr shoved her bag under her seat and slipped the headphones over her ears. "I wouldn't want you to have the baby alone," Tony finished in a whisper. He sighed and buckled his seatbelt while he waited for the rest of the passengers to board the plane. _

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

Steve and Stuart came back, and they decided to go back to camp. Tony carried Blayr, while one of the others held the baby. Progress was slow, but they made it back to the camp by mid-afternoon. Joyce came running to them, and Blayr was soon settled down n her infirmary. Joyce gave mother and son a thorough examination, but finally, she pronounced them 'healthy as horses.'

Blayr voiced her concern about the baby surviving on the island, but those thoughts were put out of her head by the group of people that surrounded her.

"Well, don't worry, Blayr, He's going to be fine. He's got a strong will. He survived the crash, didn't he?" Joyce said, pulling a blanket up around Blayr's shoulders.

"That's his name," Blayr said, sitting up.

"What, Crash?" Tony asked, passing the baby to his sister.

"No," Blayr answered sharply. Then she smiled down at the tiny face. "His name is Will," she breathed.

"Hi, Willie!" Tony teased as he tickled the baby's toes. Will smiled at his mother, then his mouth formed a big, wet yawn.

"I know how you feel," Blayr said, yawning herself. She placed the baby into the nest of blankets beside her, then sank down with her head on her own pillow. "Good night, William," she whispered, eyes closed. One of her hands was in the little bed, and the baby clasped her index finger in his tiny digits.

"Don't let the bed bugs bite," Tony whispered as he kissed both Blayr and her baby on their cheeks. He followed Joyce away, towards the main campfire. As he sat there, he realized that the place where he had found Blayr was the perfect place for the camp. There was fresh water, a tall height to build a signal fire on, and plenty of food. They could build bamboo huts. As Tony thought about this, the architect in him took over his mind, and he rummaged around in his pack until he found a notebook and pencil. He started to sketch slowly, outlining the campsite.

He had finally found a way that he could be useful on the island. As he stood, he glanced at Blayr. His drive to put shelters over their heads was mostly for her sake.

"_I'll take care of you now, Blayr_," he whispered.

Tony gathered up his sketches and went to share his idea with the others.

* * *

**A/N:** I'm sorry that it took so long to update. We went on a road trip andI didn't have time to put up chapter nine beforeI left. Now I am working on a very LONG chapter ten. Please continue to read and review. And remember, any input is appreciated. 


	10. Steve Sloan Again

**Stranded**

**Chapter Ten:** Steve Sloan

Steve used to be a policeman. He used to solve murders and put criminals behind bars. He used to have a father, and Amanda, and Jesse and Alex. He used to have the hospital, and the precinct, and BBQ Bob's, and the beach house.

But everything had changed with one event in his life. It had been only two weeks since flight 314 had crashed onto the island, and Steve was finding himself taking on more and more responsibility. The one thing that remained the same from his old life was that his wife was still at his side. But she herself had changed.

With only three weeks having passed since the death of their son, they were both still shaky, but Hope was helping Ellen heal.

Everyone on the island had changed; their old lives were over. They were hanging in suspense, waiting for rescue that they knew was not coming.

With all these changes that had happened so far, Steve could not believe that he was about to institute more. In the last week since Blayr and Will had been brought safely back, they had anonymously decided that moving the campsite would be their best option. Joyce was using the manifest to compile a list of all the people who had survived. She had plenty of help with Ellen and Danietta.

While they worked, Steve kept himself busy by sorting out a bunch of fruit, separating that which was edible with anything that was rotten or poisonous. He labored at a make-shift table, with a tarp strung overhead for shade. Tony was also working at the table, sketching out plans for the new camp. Nearby Hope giggled in a fold-away playpen that had been found in the cargo hold. Steve smiled down at the baby. He wasn't sure exactly why, but he felt a small connection to the infant. The more that Hope was near him, flashing her toothless grin, the more Steve had come to like her. He decided to take a break from his task. Steve lifted the tiny girl into his arms and settled down in the sand.

"So, are you ready for the grand total?" Joyce asked as she and Ellen plunked down into the sand beside Steve. "One hundred and sixteen people got onto the airplane, including crew. Now there are thirty-seven of us left, thirty-eight if you include Blayr's baby," Joyce continued, sifting through the stack of papers in her hands.

"We can break it down farther: eighteen men, twelve women, six children, and Will and Hope," Ellen added.

"Not as many as I thought," Steve said.

"Well, now that that's done … we can- burn the bodies. I don't like the idea, but it has to be done," Joyce said.

"We'll do it tonight," Steve said. "We can read off the names of the dead from the manifest." Joyce stared at him, and Tony set down his pencil as he watched from the table. Ellen glanced away, studying the sand on her toes. Only Hope was heard, cooing as she sucked on her left foot. Steve carefully removed the appendage from her mouth before he looked around at the faces that had become very familiar in the past few days. "This isn't a game. We can't think about the funerals they deserve, with beautiful music and flowers and personal eulogies. We need to survive, and that means getting the new campsite built. We don't know how long we will be here.

"Now, I want anyone who isn't gathering food to start collecting wood and kindling. We'll pile it up by the plane and burn it after the sun goes down."

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

_Steve sat on the edge of the bed in his old room. The past few days had been emotionally draining, with Eddie Gault threatening the people close to him. He looked up. The closet door was open, and a photo album was on a shelf. It seemed to be calling his name. Steve retrieved the book, then returned to his spot on the bed. As Steve paged through the pictures, he remembered the vacation perfectly. His mother was radiant in every picture that he had of her. Then a shadow fell over the book._

"_What's that?" Mark asked. _

"_Here, take a look," Steve said, flipping back to the first page. Mark put on his glasses and sat down beside his son._

"_Oh, our big vacation in Arizona," he said, smiling at the pictures. "You were ten years old."_

"_Do you remember how mad Mom got when you gave me that dirt bike?" Steve asked, pointing to one of the photos. Mark winched. He did remember Katherine's initial anger, but it had not lasted long._

"_And then we couldn't get her off of it," he said._

"_How many stitches did she get?"_

"_About thirty," Mark answered._

"_Yeah, Steve said with a chuckle. He looked down at the album and turned a page. His mother smiled up at him, holding a little white dog. "You know, Mom once told me she was the happiest woman she ever knew," he said thoughtfully. _

"_Really?" Mark asked. His son nodded. "Thanks for telling me that." Steve looked back down at the book. His father stood beside the same car that he owned now. His mother was in the yard, tending her roses. Steve pointed to the picture._

"_There are those rosebushes by the back door."_

"_Yeah," Mark answered with a nod._

"_Is that where you want to plant them?" Steve asked._

"_Yeah," Mark said once again._

"_I'll help you," Steve said, handing his father the photo album as he stood up._

"_Well, do you want to do it in the morning?" Mark queried. After the long week, he was beat._

"_No, I've got to be at Gault's arraignment in the morning," Steve said, striding out to get a shovel._

"_Some body never changed, anyway," Mark said, smiling as he let his fingers wander gently across Katherine's face before gently closing the album and setting it on Steve's bed so that he could follow his son downstairs._

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

"I modeled each housing unit after the huts in Gilligan's Island. Joyce helped me break family units apart, and we came up with an arrangement for bunking that should work. We assigned two people to each hut, excluding a few that have family here," Tony explained as people gathered around the glance at his sketches. The huts would be small, ten-foot squares, each with a curtain running across the middle for privacy. Hammocks were drawn into the back corners, underneath windows that allowed fresh air inside. In addition, each had two hooks for hanging jackets and things, and a shelf for personal belongings.

"We're not looking for luxury, just safety and shelter," Steve said. He went on to continue his plan for the evening and those for the rest of the week. He had carefully scheduled each day so that they would get the maximum amount of work done on the new campsite.

When the crowd dispersed to begin collecting brush and dry leaves, there was a sadness that seemed to emanate from person to person. Everyone was quiet as they went about their tasks.

Even the children, set under Katrina White's watchful eye, seemed to be working on a project with renewed fervor. Joyce looked over at the small group. She worried about their survival in an environment that was so harsh.

Joyce wandered over to them. She was about to say something to them, when she glanced at their project. Piles of wildflowers were arranged in the middle of their circle. Katrina bunched thin vines together, and then pulled them into a circle to make a wreath. The children were now adding the flowers.

"It's for the funeral," Katrina said, moving a large red flower to the other side of the display. "Do you like it?"

"I think it's a beautiful idea," Joyce smiled, but then she hurried away to help someone who had called for her.

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

_Amanda, Steve, sat in the living room of the beach house. Mark was pacing back and forth by the window. _

"_I don't know what you want me to do, Dad," Steve said. _

"_I want you to find a way to arrest Kate Delieb for murder," Mark answered pointedly._

"_Mark, you know I had to rule that as a suicide," Amanda said from her spot on the brown leather couch._

"_She supplied Frank Dugen with materials and the means to kill himself. Now that's got to be murder on some level."_

"_Not on a legal one," Steve retorted from his armchair._

"_Shoot me," Mark sighed, turning back towards the windows._

"_Look, the D.A. is keeping an eye on her. I will too. It's a start." Steve offered._

"_You know, maybe we can help," Mark said, looking to Amanda._

"_How?" Amanda asked._

"_By keeping a close watch at that hospital. If she inquires about or approaches any seriously ill patient, we call Steve."_

"_Alright, I'll discuss it with Jesse and the rest of the staff," Amanda agreed. _

"_Good. We have to stop her before she kills somebody else," Mark said. He turned and exited the room, going out to the deck. Steve watched his father go. Puzzled, he shared a look with Amanda. Sensing that father and son should have a few minutes alone, she stood._

"_I'll be in touch." Steve followed his father outside. Mark was leaning up against the deck's rail, staring out at the ocean, obviously deep in thought._

"_Amanda's headed back to the hospital. She'll call if anything comes up," Steve said._

"_Good," Mark said. "It won't take long. Kate Delieb's on a crusade. We'll get her." Steve sighed and looked down at the rail._

"_I'm a little confused here," he said._

"_About going after a killer?" Mark asked, surprised._

"_No about you," Steve said, turning around to sit on the railing. "We've dealt with a lot of killers over the years, but I don't ever remember you being this angry about one." Mark looked back out at the surf and sighed._

"_You know, she asked me the other day if I had ever let a patient die," he said._

"_And what did you answer?"_

"_I didn't. But the truth is I have. All doctors have. Those decisions come with the job. But there was this one case, over forty years ago. I was just out of residency. Eighty-three year old woman, in extreme dementia, they didn't call it Alzheimer's in those days, and in terrible pain, undiagnosed, tumor, probably. Occasionally, she had lucid moments, and in one of them, she said to me: 'Let me go. It's time.' It was your great-grandmother." Until that last sentence, Mark had kept his eyes on the ocean. But as he made his revelation, he looked over towards his son._

"_You never told me she was your patient," Steve said. _

"_She wasn't. She thought she was, of course. The whole family thought she was. I guess I thought so too." _

"_What did you do?" Steve asked, horrified._

"_I prescribed morphine for her pain. A lot of it. She lasted one more day." _

"_No one asked you anything?" _

"_Naw. Why should they, eighty-three year old woman?"_

"_I don't believe this," Steve said, walking a few steps away from his father._

"_You know, I think your mother guessed. Never said a word. I thought I was being a good doctor; doing what was right for a suffering patient. But the next morning when I woke up, I knew. I'm just her killer. Kate Delieb's a killer, Steve. I've got to stop her. Do you understand?" Steve didn't say anything, just stood, back to his father. Then he waked away._

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

The blaze from the fire was so bright that it stung Steve's eyes to look at it. He had an arm around his wife, holding her close for support. He hadn't liked the chore of starting the fire.

Danietta read the names of the deceased from the manifest. Each one she said slowly, and with dignity. The children's wreath was propped beside her.

When Danietta finished, Katrina White stepped forward. Tears rolled down the young girl's cheeks. Her watery eyes glistened with the flickering light of the fire. Silence came over the group of people, with only the low rumbling of the fire penetrating their minds. Then one voice, pure and sweet, carried out above the noise, singing a tune that was well known to one and all.

"_Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,  
__That saved a wretch like me,"_ Katrina began. She kept her eyes on the fire, transfixed by the light. Joyce came to her side, and put her arms around her shoulders, joining the song.

"_I once was lost, but now am found.  
__Was blind, but now I see._" Voices across the crowd joined in, starting in low, but then growing to a loud voice. All were singing as one.

"_Through many dangers, toils and snares,  
__Ihave already come.  
_'_Twas grace that brought me safe thus far,  
__And grace will lead me home."_

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

"_Admit it, Dad. Bruce's computer didn't kill those people. Bruce did," Steve said. He sat with his father in the study of his new house, opening containers of Chinese take-out. Boxes served as tables and chairs._

"_Yeah, I guess you're right," Mark said. "Well, did your system cook all this Chinese food?"_

"_Actually it was the Chinese restaurant around the corner, which seems to have forgotten the Moo Shoo pork. I'll go back," Steve offered. _

"_Oh, no, this is plenty of food," Mark protested. "Mmm, good too. You know, take-out is very important for a man who lives alone."_

"_Dad," Steve said, pulling on his jacket. _

"_Men don't cook for themselves. I rarely do it," Mark continued._

"_Dad, it's not like I eat dinner at home that often anyway," Steve argued._

"_Why do you think I know every take-out place in Malibu?" Mark replied. As Steve chuckled, his cell phone trilled._

"_Hello… Jess, I can't hear you. I've been on the phone all day. My battery's dying."_

"_Here use mine," Mark offered, checking his pockets. "Oh, I left it in the car."_

"_Jesse let me call you back from a payphone," Steve said, turning off the cell phone._

"_I'll go get it," Mark said, starting to get up. But his son stopped him._

"_No, no, no. Don't let your soup get cold. There's a payphone at the Chinese restaurant; I'll just call him from there". Steve said, standing up. _

"_You sure?"_

"_Yeah. You know, a true test of Chinese takeout is Moo Shoo Pork."_

"_Right," Mark agreed._

"_This will only take a minute," Steve confirmed._

"_Alright," Mark said, as Steve walked out. _

_Steve drove around the corner to the restaurant. He went straight to the payphone, and called Jesse._

"_Steve?" the young doctor asked. "Stay out of the house." Jesse went on to explain that Bruce was out to get Mark, and that he killed the children of his victims using the computer system in their houses. Steve felt his face go pale._

"_Jesse, Dad is there," he said. _

"_I'm on my way," Jesse said. _

_Steve drove back to the house. By the time Jesse arrived, a team was trying to open the door. Cheryl and Steve were standing helplessly on the sidewalk, waiting. Cheryl left him to check on the progress._

"_Your dad still inside?" Jesse asked, coming over. _

"_Yeah, the computer seems to have triggered the security system in the study. I've called for a battering ram and a blowtorch."_

"_This may take a while," Cheryl announced as she returned._

"_We may not have a while," Steve argued._

"_What do you mean?" Jesse asked. _

"_The computer is designed to pump fresh air into the room. If the computer's been programmed to shut off the air intake, we might not have much time at all," Steve said, turning away. He talked with the guys who were trying to pry open the door for a moment, then turned back to Jesse._

"_Is there any way you could hack into the system, take control of this thing?" he asked, almost pleading. _

"_That's way beyond my ability. You need somebody who knows how to back door-" Jesse trailed off._

"_Purdy," the two men said together, naming a man who designed a different brand of the computer systems._

"_He's been released on bail," Cheryl piped in._

"_I'll find him," Steve said, hurrying to his car._

_Steve saw the man he was looking for from down the street. He stepped out of his SUV, and then started for the building, tossing his keys up and catching them with his left hand. Out of nowhere, a black and white patrol car pulled up in front of Purdy. He turned and ran, right up to Steve's car. He turned once more and ran away. Steve jumped out of the car, and followed. Purdy was surrounded. He stopped, stiff. Suddenly, he ran towards Steve. _

_The cop was ready for it. He ducked, and sent Purdy hurling to the ground. _

"_You've got nothing on me," the man protested, as Steve hauled him to his feet._

"_I know. Why are you running?"_

"_Why you here?" Purdy retorted._

"_Because I need you," Steve said. _

"_What was that? Did I just hear you say 'let's make a deal'?" Steve nodded. On the way to the house, he explained what was happening. In the rearview mirror, Steve saw Purdy pull out a laptop and begin type, as they pulled up._

"_Any luck?" Steve asked Cheryl. She shook her head slowly. _

"_What do we need to do to hook you up?" Jesse asked Purdy as he exited the car, glasses on his face. _

"_Just stand back and let me work." He kept tying and clicking the keyboard. "There's the system, now if I can just find the override," he said finally._

"_What's the status inside," Steve asked, turning back towards the house. He hated being powerless while the life of someone that he cared about was on the line. Especially when it was his father._

"_We've made no contact yet," Cheryl said, watching Purdy work. He hit a button on the keyboard._

"_Ha. I'm in."_

"_Okay, get some oxygen in there," Steve said, turning back towards the door. Jesse's eyes were glued to the computer screen._

"_Oxygen level is nearly normal," he said._

"_Let's go," Steve said, running towards the door, Cheryl and Jesse on his heels. _

_Steve heard the air-proof door slide up, and the instant it would budge, he banged the regular door open. His dad was lying on the floor, head against some boxes. Steve dropped down at his side._

"_Dad?" Mark stuttered that he was alright. "Don't try to talk," Steve ordered gently._

"_You'll be just fine," Jesse said, as the paramedics slipped an oxygen mask over Mark's nose and mouth. As his father gasped for air, Steve and one of the paramedics helped him to his feet. He moved out of the way so that the other medic could take Mark's arm. Steve watched anxiously as they led him from the room._

"_Let them work Steve," Cheryl said. _

_Steve sighed, then looked around, at the air filters. As he tilted his head back down, Steve noticed some writing on one of the boxes. He tore the cardboard flap off to read the message. _

"To my son, Steve,_" It read. Then the pen trailed off. Steve's heart leaped, and he glanced over at his father, who was being wheeled out to a waiting ambulance._

_They took Mark to Community General. Jesse and Amanda visited for awhile, but both eventually had to leave. Steve stood beside the bed, and discreetly pulled something from his inside jacket pocket. _

"_Jesse said you're going to be fine," he said, to strike up conversation._

"_Yeah. It takes more than a computer to kill me," Mark said. Steve chuckled._

"_I found that," he said, showing Mark the cardboard flap that was in his hand._

"_Oh, yeah. It was- I- a- uh- just-"_

"_I figured you were just reminding me to get an extra fortune cookie," Steve interrupted, trying to alleviate the swirl of emotions that was taking over the room. _

"_Oh, you figured that out, huh?" Mark said with a smile._

"_I am a detective," Steve replied. _

"_How's the house?" Mark asked, changing the subject. _

"_Well, a few thousand dollars worth of repairs and it should be good as new." Both men nodded ruefully. Steve's tone changed. "I'm going to rent it out. It would make a good investment."_

"_You don't want to live there?" Mark asked, surprised._

"_It's kind of lost its charm," Steve said, folding his hands behind his back. The piece of cardboard was still in them. He had a feeling that the flap was something that he would keep tucked away in a drawer for a very long time. "Of course, I was hoping my former landlord would let me move back in."_

"_Well, your former landlord might have raised the rent, too," Mark said. _

"_Oh, how much?"_

"_Two dinners a week?" Mark offered. _

"I can afford that," Steve agreed. Mark nodded. Then he thought of something.

"_You know that puce sofa?" _

"_Yeah?" Steve said, raising his eyebrows as he listened for his dad's next words._

"_Don't bring it," Mark said simply. Steve's face fell, but he nodded._

"_Oh."_

_Awhile later, Steve went home to the beach house. He couldn't sleep, so he set up the old movie projector, and watched silent films of his father, opening Christmas presents, and holding his baby son. _

_His thoughts turned to how close he had come to losing his father. Now he knew how Mark must have felt every time he was dragged to the hospital because of some on-the-job wound. Steve smiled at his father in the movie._

"_Good night, Dad," he said, turning out the lamp._

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

Morning seemed earlier, and the sun brighter, the next day, as everyone began to wake up and prepare for the move. Several trips would have to be made between the old and new camps. Tarps and large pieces of wreckage served as sleds, which could be packed with the things they were taking, then pulled through the sand. That would get them halfway to the new site, and from there they'd have to carry them.

Steve helped load up one of these with luggage. Within three hours of dawn, they were ready for the first wave to head out. Steve smiled down at Ellen as they started off down the beach. She had strapped Hope to her back, using a bag to make a sort of papoose. The baby giggled from her perch. She liked being able to see everyone and everything.

Ellen helped Steve and a couple other people pull one of the sleds.

"You're awfully quiet today," Ellen said, adjusting the strap from Hope's carrier that cut into her shoulder.

"I'm just tired," Steve muttered, tugging on the sled to move it into a position from which they could carry it.

"Are you sure?" Ellen asked.

"I'm fine," he said.

"Okay," Ellen said uncertainly. "But if you need to talk, I'm always here."

"I know," Steve said. "I love you." Ellen smiled and shifted her grip on the sled. An hour and a half later, Steve slowed. The hill they approached was familiar. Just over it, was the waterfall, and several caves.

The sleeping quarters were to be arranged on the mostly flat terrain on the other side of the lagoon. Stairs would later be built to make the hike easier, but for now, they climbed on foot.

Tony's group, unhindered by the large sleds, had arrived nearly forty-five minutes before the others, and they devised a pulley to help lift their cargo up the cliff beside the waterfall. They had also started cutting down bamboo trunks and measuring them off to match in height.

"Everything is under control, Steve," Tony said. "Why don't you rest a few minutes? You look tired?"

Steve smiled at his young helper, as Ellen came to his side with a bottle of fresh water. He moved to the shade of a palm tree, and sat down, with Hope in his lap and his wife nearby.

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

_Steve shifted nervously from foot to foot as he told his father what he had done while he was away in Costa Rica. They were outside at the beach house, looking out towards the ocean from the rocky embankment._

"_You asked her to marry you?" Mark repeated, his jaw dropping._

"_I didn't know what else to do. I had already bought the ring."_

"_I am never leaving town again," Mark said._

"_Do you think I did the right thing?" _

"_I don't see as you had any other choice," _

"'_Cause, I'd already bought the ring," _

"_Exactly," Mark said supportively._

"_Of course, he could have taken the ring back," Ellen interjected, joining them._

"_No way," Steve said, pulling her towards him. _

"_Afraid not," Mark said, watching the kiss with a dopey smile on his face. He wasn't sure what would happen with Walter Burkett, but he was certain that his son would be happy now._

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

The building went relatively quickly. On the first full day, their efforts only produced one hut, but it was enough to put a roof over the heads of Blayr and her baby.

Soon an assembly line was set up. Several people measured and cut the bamboo, while others wove it together into the pieces for the walls. These were then set up, one, two, three, four, until the hut was formed. They braced it with more long sticks, then set to tying it until it was sturdy. The roof was easy, as they just fastened massive palms to the top of the frame.

To test it, Steve dumped a pail of water down the roof. The little room stayed dry.

Within a week, the huts were all complete. Hammocks were set up in each, as were shelves, set into notches in the wall. Bamboo cribs were made for Hope and Will.

A big pavilion was put together as a sort of 'cafeteria,' where they could eat and cook. Joyce's infirmary was set up in a cave, with storage in an adjourning room.

The signal fire was set up on the highest ground in the camp. It blazed night and day, with watches set up to keep it fueled.

Steve surveyed watched every step, correcting mistakes, and helping where needed. Ellen watched from the sidelines, worried that he would burn himself out. She could tell that he missed Mark. They had always worked as a team, and now, for the first time ever, Steve had to learn to function without being able to go to his father for advice or help.

Ellen missed the older doctor as well. He was easy to talk to, about anything. After she married Steve, Ellen found herself telling Mark stuff that she hadn't even told her own parents. But Ellen that if she was homesick for his soothing voice, as well as Jesse's humor and Amanda's trustworthiness, and Alex' sensibility, Steve missed them even more.

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

"_Ow," Steve complained. Jesse was stitching up a would on his right shoulder, where an assailant's bullet had grazed the cop. It was pretty deep for a graze, but it wasn't serious. "Amanda's right, your technique does stink."_

"_You're just a big baby," Jesse said, coming back for another stitch. Steve opened his mouth to say something else, but the door to the trauma room opened, and Mark came in, Ellen on his heels._

"_Are you alright?" Ellen asked, sitting down beside him. _

"_I'm fine. Look, it's just a grazing," Steve said, nodding towards his shoulder. _

"_I was just worried. They told me on the phone that you had been shot," she said, leaning her head on his left shoulder. Her relief was more exhausting than the anxiety had been. Steve rubbed her arm with his left hand, holding her close._

"_I'm okay, Dad," he offered, looking up at Mark._

"_You should have called," Mark noted. "We _were_ worried."_

"_I was going to call as soon as Dr. Jekyll here was done mutilating me," Steve said. "Will you just sew it up? I don't care if there's a scar."_

"_What's one more?" Jesse retorted. "I shou-"_

"_Steve," Ellen said, interrupting Jesse at his comeback. She looked at her husband and smiled, looking very quickly down towards her own belly. He knew what she was trying to tell him with her eyes. Ellen had revealed her pregnancy to him three days before, and since then, she had made it clear that he should tell his father before he guessed for himself._

"_I guess that now is as good a time as any," Steve said, grasping Ellen's hand. "Dad, we're having a baby." For the first time since Steve had known him, Jesse was speechless. Mark's eyes watered at the edges. _

"_Congratulations, Son," he said. Jesse had finally finished, and he moved out of the way. He left the little family alone after offering his own best wishes._

_Mark hugged both Ellen and Steve, and tears of joy stung all of their eyes, although Steve tried to hide it. His dad smiled at him. Steve knew that he could never top his own father, but he wanted to be a good dad. _

"_I'm going to need fathering lessons," he said out loud. Mark grinned._

"_It's not much than dealing with Jesse," he said._

"_Oh boy, are we in for a long eighteen years," Steve commented._

"_I'm game if you are," Ellen said._

"_I'll help too," Mark said._

"_Thanks Dad." _

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

Steve used to be a policeman. He used to solve murders and put criminals behind bars. He used to have a father, and Amanda, and Jesse and Alex. He used to have the hospital, and the precinct, and the beach house.

Everyone on the island had changed; their old lives were over. They were hanging in suspense, waiting for rescue that they knew was not coming.

Steve loved his old life, but he knew that things would never be the same. As he closed the flap of fabric that served as a door to his hut, he smiled at his wife's sleeping form. Steve bent over Hope's crib, and kissed her forehead. Then he climbed into the hammock beside Ellen.

"I love you," he whispered.

He looked back out the hole that was the window. Stars twinkled in the dark blue of the sky. Constellations that were apparent at the beach house were not in their normal spots, but Steve could still pick them out.

Steve would never give up hope that they might one day be rescued, but he wasn't going to dwell on it either. He knew that whatever happened, he would always have the memory of his father, and the support of his wife.

_Good bye, Dad,_ Steve thought. _I'll miss you_.

**

* * *

A/N: **This chapter marks a turning point in the story. The survivors had been huddled on the beach, waiting for rescue, but now they have to face the fact that they might not be rescued soon. 

Some of the flashbacks in this chapter were from episodes of DM: A Blast from the Past, Today is the Last Day of the Rest of My Life, Murder By Remote, and Without Warning.

I tried to pick ones that showed how close Steve and his father were, and how much their relationship had been through. I actually replayed each episode so that I would be sure to get the dialogue correct. And I had to look up how to spell Kate 'Delieb' from the cast credits on TV Tome.

I hope that you enjoyed this chapter, please read and review.


	11. Katrina White

**Stranded**

**  
****Chapter Eleven:** Katrina White

Katrina White pulled her dirty blond hair away from her face and tied it up with a piece of twine. It had been nearly three months since Flight 314 hand crashed onto the shores of a deserted island. Nearly three months since they had had any real shampoo. The hot, muggy weather made Katrina's dirty-blond hairy frizzy and hard to control, and it was very hot on her neck.

The thirty-eight survivors had almost given up hope of rescue, and instead were forging new lives on the island. When they moved their campsite, they were lucky to discover wild boar and hens, and so were delighted to and bacon, chicken, and eggs to their fruit-and-fish diet.

Katrina was slowly making herself at home in the hut that she shared with her father. Her cats, Neko, Keiko, and Fluffy lived in a large pet crate that had once belonged to her German Shepherd, Callie. Katrina could feed them fish and chicken, and would take them out on a leash one at a time.

Callie slept in the sandy grass beneath her master's hammock. The trauma of the plane had scared the puppy, and she stuck to Katrina like glue.

Now Callie chewed on a stick as Katrina worked on building a desk to keep her books on. Her father, Louis, had let her check an extra suitcase that contained her small library, and it had miraculously survived the crash. Her priceless collection was undamaged. Now she lent them out, knowing that the boredom of the place could almost drive a person out of their skin.

In all actuality, Tony Levine had built most of the desk, and Katrina was just putting the finishing touches on it before her father would move it for her.

Callie's tail started thumping the ground, signaling that someone whom she had deemed friendly was approaching.

"How's it coming?" Tony asked. As a sort of 'chief-architect' of the entire camp, he was still busy, designing showers, latrines, a kitchen, anything that the survivors would need. Katrina was surprised that he had taken the time to help her.

"I'm just about done," she said as the man bent down to scratch Callie behind the ears.

"Looks pretty good," Tony said, shaking the little desk to test its sturdiness.

"Thanks," the girl said, grinning.

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

"_Leaving behind a grieving husband and child, we must comfort them." The preacher droned on, but to the six year old girl, his words barely described her beautiful, happy mother. At least her name, 'Eleanor,' was spoken often. Katrina's father sat rigid beside her._

_He glanced down at the little girl who he barely knew. He had spent most of her six years away on deployments. Most recently he had been sent to California for six months, while his wife and daughter stayed behind in the Wisconsin town which they had all grown up in._

_Now he was back, to retrieve his daughter from his mother-in-law. She had been caring for Katrina since the awful night. It seems Katrina was running a 104 degree fever and Eleanor had braved the icy roads to take her to the emergency room. On her way, she was hit by a drunk driver, who, being a visitor from Arizona, didn't know how to drive in snow. Eleanor was killed on impact, but little Katrina in the back seat had barely sustained a scratch._

_He offered the little girl a small smile. Katrina's expression didn't change._

"_It's going to be alright," he whispered, leaning down. "Daddy's here now."_

_Katrina climbed up into his lap. When the ceremony was over, Louis walked behind the casket, cradling his sleeping daughter._

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

"Are you ready?" Danietta Coleman came over to Tony. A pack was strapped to her back, and she was carrying several hunting spears, which were actually very sharp sticks. "Steve and Stuart already went on ahead. We'll have to go double time if we want to catch up."

"May I go too?" Katrina asked, brushing the sand off of her jeans. Tony looked to Danietta, who shrugged.

"Sure, but hurry." Katrina ran back to her hut, and grabbed Callie's leash. She tied it to her belt and clipped it to the dog's collar. Katrina pulled one of her father's old baseball caps over her head and retied her tennis shoes. She was ready.

The excursion brought back two wild pigs. Katrina helped clean up the hunting gear before washing off in the stream and returning to her hut. When she entered the zone where the huts were located, her father immediately homed in on her.

"Where have you been, young lady?"

"I went with the hunting party."

"Never again!" Louis exclaimed. "I was worried sick!"

"I had Callie with me. And I didn't go wandering alone. I was perfectly safe!" Katrina cried. She had forgotten how much Marines loved to yell.

"How was I supposed to know that? Did you even think about asking my permission? You're fourteen years old."

Katrina's eyes fell at the mention of her age. She stopped arguing with her father and simply gave in.

"I'm sorry Dad. It won't happen again."

"It certainly won't. You're grounded to the camp. No errands, no fishing, no hunting. Any free time from your regular chores will be spent helping Dr. Walters in the infirmary. Do you understand me?"

"Yes Sir," Katrina mumbled, heading for her hut.

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

_In fourth grade, Katrina's class read a book called "The Dragonling." The teacher, Miss Jonson gave the children an assignment to draw a picture of the part of the book that they identified with. Herby Koller drew a big blue dragon flying over stick-figure warriors. Greta Murphy drew a picture of a mother, hugging her young son, Derek. Peter Fletching drew the dragonling when he was scared, stuffed beneath Derek's shirt, tail hanging out._

_Katrina White drew the grave and headstone of Yoren, a boy who had died in the book. Concerned by this, Miss Jonson called a parent-teacher conference. Katrina waited in the hallway after school while her father went into the class room to talk with her teacher. But Louis White didn't know that to close the classroom door, it had to be pushed until it clicked. Otherwise a small crack remained, letting sounds from within flow into the quiet hallway._

_Katrina watched to see that no one was coming down the hall, and leaned closer to the crack. Miss Jonson was speaking._

"_I just think that it's a little morbid. Girls her age are usually drawing princesses or unicorns, but Katrina just depicts despair." Here she paused. If Katrina could have seen them, she would have seen Miss Jonson hand a manila folder to her father. He paged through the papers, which were other pictures and some sad stories by Katrina. "Your daughter seems to have some major issues, not only with her mother's death, but with you as well. Her fairy tale was Cinderella, but in her version, Cinderella's mother died, and her father was evil. There are similar signs in that folder. I think that she should see a counselor."_

"_I understand your concern, Miss Jonson," Katrina heard her father say after several moments of paper shuffling. "But Katrina is very … needy. She took the loss of her mother very hard. Try as I might, I'm just not a suitable replacement. Please, just give us a chance to work this out before you call in counselors."_

_At this point, Miss Jonson apparently discovered the open door, and pushed it closed with a click. Katrina pulled her back pack closer and took out her math homework._

_Katrina added silently for five minutes. Then the door opened._

"_Thank you for your time, Mr. White," Miss Jonson said, patting Katrina on the head. "You have a very bright little girl. I don't want her to end up having issues with you. I can give you another chance, but if there is another incident, I will have to refer her to our counselor."_

"_Thank you, Miss White," Louis said, steering herby her shoulder, out to their car._

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

"_Did you even think about asking my permission? You're fourteen years old."_

The words rang through Katrina's head. Fourteen. Not today. Today she was officially fifteen. How could he forget her birthday?

Katrina was born on her parent's first anniversary. Before her mother died, she used to joke that her father had no excuse for forgetting the day.

Would she have thought a plane crash was a viable excuse? There was a calendar posted near the pavilion dedicated as the mess hall. Steve marked off a day every morning.

"Katrina?" a voice asked, startling her from her thoughts. She looked up into the dusky light that shone through the door.

"Hi, Dr. Walters," Katrina said.

"Blayr's baby is a little colicky, and I was wondering if you would go help her for a few hours," Joyce said. "Will likes it when you read to him." Katrina pasted a smile on her face.

"Sure," she said.

Within minutes, she had gathered a book of fairy tales and she set out with Callie to Blayr's hut. Will was crying and Blayr was swallowing a pair of Tylenol.

"Boy am I glad to see you," Blayr said over the crying. Katrina smiled and pulled out a book.

Some time later, they had settled the baby down, and he was sleeping fitfully.

"Thank you, Katrina," Blayr said. "It was nice of you to take time and help me out on your birthday."

"How did you know that it's my birthday?" Katrina asked. Blayr pulled a book off of her shelf and flipped through the pages.

"You let me borrow 'Little Women,'" she said, flipping through the pages. There, stuck on the page where Beth March passes away was a hand-drawn card. It read 'Happy 14th Birthday, Kat!' obviously written in an adult's handwriting, and colored by a young child. "The back is dated," Blayr said.

"My cousin Luke made this for me last year. He's three now," Katrina said.

"You know, I want to give you something," Blayr said, rummaging around in her suitcase. She fished a Ziploc bag out and handed Katrina a small, plush box. "No girl should turn fifteen without some kind of jewelry." Katrina opened the box slowly, revealing a gold heart, trimmed with a single tiny diamond, dangling from a thin gold chain.

"I can't take this," Katrina said.

"Sure you can. I bought when I was your age. I had to save a lot of birthday money for it. But it just isn't as important to me as it used to be," Blayr's baby started to stir and she stroked his cheek softly. "I want you to have it. I know you'll appreciate it. And you have helped me out tremendously."

"But-" the girl began. But Blayr cut her off, clasping the chain around her neck.

"No buts. Say 'Thank-you, Blayr.'"

"Thank you, Blayr," the girl repeated with a grin.

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

"_How would you like to go and get some ice cream?" Louis asked._

"_Before dinner?" Katrina asked, eyes wide. _

"_Sure, we'll just eat backwards tonight," her father said, pulling into Dairy Queen parking lot. They ordered a banana spit and two spoons. Louis gathered extra napkins and settled his daughter across from him in a booth. Katrina dug her spoon into a mound of ice cream._

"_Thank you, Daddy," she said._

"_You're welcome, Sweet-heart," he said, watching the nine-year-old eat daintily. "Katrina why did you draw that picture at school?" _

"_She asked for it. Miss Jonson told us to draw what we related to. When we read about Yoren's death, it just reminded me of how sad I was when Mommy died," the girl said, wiping up fudge that she had drizzled on the table._

"_Do you really think that I am evil?" he asked. Katrina looked up, startled._

"_Of course not! I love you Daddy," she said practically._

"_Oh? Then how come Cinderella's daddy was so mean?" he asked._

"_Because everyone else in the class had an evil stepmother in their story and I wanted mine to be different," Katrina said. "Anyways, I just write what I feel. When I'm sad, my stories are sad too. I bet Miss Jonson didn't show you any of my happy work, huh?"_

"_I guess not. Kat, you do know that I love you, right?"_

"_Yep-yep!" she said, batting her eyes at him and giggling._

"_Alright, I want you to start writing more happy stories for Miss Jonson, okay?"_

"_Okay, Daddy." She looked up at him and laughed. "You have ice cream all over your face," she said, pointing to her own cheek. Louis wiped at his face with a napkin, and discovered cherry syrup, he smudged it farther up onto his cheek._

"_I that better?" he asked. As Katrina giggled, Louis cleaned the syrup off of his face, and then off of his daughter's. They left the ice cream shop hand in hand._

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

Katrina left Blayr and went to sit in the sand near the mess pavilion. Settled with Callie in a patch of torchlight, she tried to concentrate on her novelization of "The Phantom of the Opera." Eventually she gave up, and dropped her book at her side, leaning back into her dog's warm fur and gazing up at the stars.

It didn't matter anymore that her father had forgotten. He was busy, and they had been through a trauma.

At least someone had said 'happy birthday.' The light shimmered from the diamond on the necklace. The chain was a little long, but Blayr had assured her that she'd grow into it.

Suddenly, she was startled by a voice singing.

"_Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you_." It was her father. He was carrying a "Little Debbie" cupcake, with a single candle glowing. "_Happy birthday, dear Katrina. Happy birthday to you."_

Louis held the cupcake near Katrina's face, and she blew out the candle. He cut the little cake in half with his Swiss-army knife, and they savored the chocolate in silence.

"I'm sorry, Katrina," Louis said at last. "I feel like such an idiot. I can't believe I forgot your birthday."

"No excuses, right, Dad?" the girl said with a sad smile, remembering her mother.

"No excuses. It was my fault. Please forgive me." Katrina leaned over into her father's embrace.

"Of course. And I _am_ sorry that I went off without telling you. I won't do it again."

"So you're fifteen," he said. "Mom would be so proud."

Katrina smiled.

"She'd be proud of you, too Dad," she said.

As father and daughter finished their cupcake and then went back to their hut, they were oblivious to the fact that a crew from Carnival cruises was testing a new route. The ship was just 50 miles off the coast of their little island.

* * *

**A/N:** I guess it's pretty obvious what is coming, but that's okay. I think I may have a twist that's unexpected, involving a nice you ER doctor/barbeque restraunt operator... Please review and tell me what you think. MoreAmanda-Mark-Alex-and-Jesse coming up soon. 


End file.
